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bOClALIbM    IN    HYUL    PAHK,    LONDON. 
lA  uiLX'liut;  oil  huiKl.iy  ulltiuwu,  ui.ui  lUc  ilafblv  kVrtli.J 


THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

TIIKIIJ    IMIOHLKMS    AM)   WHAT    IS 
l)OIN(i    TO   SOLVE   THEM 


HY 


ROliiaiT   A.  WOODS 
W.  T    ELSING 

JACOB  A.  nns 

^\^T.LARD  PARSONS 
EVI:RT  J.  WENDELL 
ERNEST  FLAGG 


WILLIAM  JEWETT  TUCKER 
JOSEPH   KIRKLAND 
SIR  WALTER  RF.SANT 
FJ)MUND  R.  SPEARMAN 
JFiiSIE  WHITE  MARIO 
OSCAR   CRAIG 


ILLUSTRATED    BY 

HUGH    THOMSON,     OTTO    H     IJA(;HKU,     C.    UROrcilTON,      V.    PERAUD, 

IUVI\(;    11.    WILES,      HEHUKUT    DENMAN,      V.    CUIUAYEDOFF, 

ELLA    I'.  MOUILL,  H.  T.  S(JHLAUERML'M>,   KTiOUB  TITO 


NEW  YORK 
CHARLES    SORIUNER'S   SONS 

IK  D.J 


COFTRIonT.  1896,  BT 
(11ARLK8  HCUIUNKR-S  SONS 


romTiM  *■•  »ooini"t»««  eon»»»tT 


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r<w+ 


/f// 


INTRODUCTION 

The  papers  composing'  this  book  were  contributed  to  Scrihner's 
Magazine  during  the  years  1891-1893  by  authors  whose  Avork  em- 
bodied personal  experience  and  close  and  sympathetic  study,  and 
by  artists  whose  drawings  were  made  among  the  life  they  repre- 
sent. They  form  perhaps  the  most  important  group  of  essays  thus 
far  printed  upon  one  of  the  most  vital  and  (what  is  by  no  means  the 
same  thing)  one  of  the  most  widely  discussed  subjects  of  the  time. 
It  is,  indeed,  the  central  subject  of  all  social  questions  ;  for  all  of 
these,  under  whatever  name,  deal  with  the  means  of  improving  the 
conditions  of  life  and  with  the  relief  of  suffering  as  the  necessary 
forerunners  of  all  other  reforms ;  and  whatever  may  be  the  diffi- 
culties of  those  conditions,  or  the  amount  of  that  suffering  in  rural 
communities  or  among  special  classes  away  from  towns,  it  is  only 
in  the  centres  of  population  that  they  present  their  great  general 
problems  to  the  observation  of  all  people  alike,  and  comjjel  an 
answer  to  the  question  of  their  remedy. 

Any  series  of  joapers  on  the  Poor  in  Great  Cities  will  have  had 
many  predecessors — has  indeed  in  England  a  whole  literature  be- 
hind it,  of  Avhose  masterpieces  some  show  their  practical  results  to- 
day in  different  individual  directions,  and  some  have  become,  so  to 
speak,  the  literary  classics  of  their  subject.  The  famous  series  in 
the  London  Morning  Chronicle  in  1848,  on  "  London  Labor  and  the 
London  Poor "  (i^erhaps  the  first  to  attract  wide  attention),  the 
"  Parson  Lot  "  papers  of  Charles  Kingsley,  the  publications  of  the 
group  of  men  of  whom  Frederick  Maurice  was  the  centre,  and  a 
long  succession  down  to  the  "  Bitter  Cry  of  Outcast  London  "  in  our 


viii  lyTRODUCTION 

own  clays,  are  of  the  former  class ;  passages  in  Carlyle,  "  Alton 
Locke,"  and  of  late  years  Besaut's  "  All  Sorts  and  Conditions  of 
Men,"  are  in  the  latter.  All  of  them  dealt  with  the  sntt'ering-  and 
the  problems  of  a  single  city  ;  and  all  but  the  last  named  in  each 
list  dealt  with  conditions  altog'ether  different  from  the  present. 
Each  was  an  appeal  to  an  unawakened  audience,  and  each  had  a 
condition  complicated  by  centuries  to  show  in  colors  that  could  not 
be  too  dark,  without  any  remedial  experiments  to  discuss — for  none 
worth  the  name  had  been  tried ;  and  without  any  comparisons  of  its 
facts  with  others — for  none  had  been  made. 

The  conditions  are  quite  different  now.  Awakening-  is  not 
needed.  Every  thinking  man  has  thoughts  upon  this  matter.  And 
along  with  this  realization  has  come  practical  experiment,  in  many 
places  and  on  an  immense  scale,  toward  a  solution.  Americans 
especially  are  to  be  congratulated  on  the  fact  that  they  receive  the 
question,  at  the  moment  when  the  conditions  of  their  large  cities 
begin  to  make  it  vital  to  them,  with  much  of  the  light  of  older  ex- 
perience upon  it,  and  (even  with  the  peculiar  difficulties  with  which 
unrestricted  immigration  complicates  it)  in  by  no  means  its  most 
hopeless  form.  It  is  at  our  doors ;  but  not  in  a  shape,  if  we  recog- 
nize fully  its  difficulties  and  take  hold  of  it  in  earnest,  where  we 
may  not  hope  to  prevent  its  dominating  us  in  any  sense.  We  have 
Mulberry  Street  tenements  and  "  Hell's  Kitchens,"  sporadic  and  the 
growth  of  a  generation  or  two ;  it  is  largely  our  own  affair  whether 
we  shall  some  time  have  Tom-All-Alones  as  a  permanent  institu- 
tion, or  the  century-old  sediment  of  "WTiitechajjel. 

What  we  need  to  know  is  what  is  doing,  here  and  elsewhere,  in 
the  general  and  efficient  activity  that  has  been  the  growth  of  the 
last  few  years  ;  and  especially,  what  are  the  facts  with  which  our 
own  efforts  are  to  deal,  and  how  facts  elsewhere  compare  with 
them.  It  is  believed  that  the  present  volume  tells  this  with  a  new 
vividness  and  force — the  vividness  derived  from  actual  experience 
among  and  keen  S3'mpathy  with  the  poor,  and  the  force  from  a 
strong  conviction  of  the  fitness  of  this  moment  for  intelligent  and 


INTRODUCTION  ix 

vig-orons  effort.  The  contributors  of  the  articles — varying  in 
literary  experience  from  Mr.  Besant  to  those  who  here  wrote  for 
the  first  time  publicly  upon  the  subject— have  had  that  qualifica- 
tion and  conviction  in  common. 

If  a  word  need  be  said  as  to  the  illustration  of  the  book,  it 
may  best  be  an  assurance  of  its  accuracy,  since  its  other  qualities, 
it  is  hoped,  may  be  made  to  be  their  own  commendation.  The  art- 
ists who  co-operated  in  the  series  of  papers  made  their  studies  in 
the  places  and  among  the  life  described,  by  sketches  and  by  draw- 
ings after  photograj^hs  made  under  their  own  supervision  or  the 
author's. 


COXTEXTS 

PAGE 

THE  SOCLIL  AWAKENING  IN  LONDON 1 

Br  ROBERT  A.  WOODS, 

HEAD  OF  AXDOVER  HOUSE.    BOSTON.    AND  S0SIETI3LE  RESIDENT  AT  TOTNBEE  HALL. 

The  East  Exd — The  Giiowth  of  Knowledge  of  the  Poor — Church  Work 
— The  Salvation  Army — Charity  Orgaxizatioxs— The  Social  Move- 
ment AT  the  Universities — Edward  Denison — Arnold  Toynbee — 
Samuel  A.  Barn  ett— Toynbee  Hall — Oxford  House — The  Uniaersity 
Settlements— The  Peoples  Palace — The  Kyrle  Society — Social- 
istic Organization— John  Burns— The  Xew  Trade-Unionism — The 
Fabian  Society — The  London  Government— 3Ir.  Charles  Booth. 


LIFE  IN  NEW    TOEK    TENEMENT-HOUSES  AS   SEEN 
BY  A  CITY  MISSIONARY 42 

By  WILLIAM   T.   ELSIXG, 

UnaSTEK  OF  THE  DE  WITT  MEMORIAL  XOS-SECTARIAX  CHURCH  IN  KIVESGTON  STREET,   NEW  YORK. 

The  East  Side— Tenement  Life — Contrasts  in  the  Tenements — Dirt  and 
Cleanliness — Classes  of  Homes  in  the  Tenements — Rents — Changes 
in  the  Tenement  Popul.\tion — Statistics  of  a  Typical  Block — Xa- 

TIOXALITEES — INFLUENCES  OF  THE  PUBLIC  SCHOOLS — THE  FRESH-AIR  EX- 
CURSIONS—ThE  College  Settlements — Stories  op  the  Poor — The 
Charity  Organizations — The  Church — Suggestions  toward  Improv- 
LNG  "  Darkest  New  York." 


xii  CONTENTS 


PAGE 

THE  CHILDEEN  OF  THE  POOR 86 

By  JACOB  A.  EIIS, 

AUTHOR  OP  "HOW  THE  OTHER  HALF  LIVES,"  ETC. 

"One  of  God's  Children" — Progress  in  the  Care  op  Poor  Children  in 
New  York— The  Children's  Aid  Society — Italians  in  Mulberry 
Bend— The  Schools — Some  Typical  Children  of  the  East  Side — 
Child  Population  of  the  Jewish  Tenements — Child  Labor  in  the 
Tenements— Some  Solutions  op  the  Problem — Ambition  among  the 
School  Children — The  Flag  in  the  Schools— Street  Gamins  and 
their  Future — Boys"  Clubs— Little  Housekeepers— The  Story  op 
"  Buffalo." 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  FRESH-AIR  FUND. 131 

By  WILLAED  PAKSONS, 

MANAGER. 

The  Foundation  op  the  Fund — The  Post  and  Tribune — Statistics  of  the 
Fund— Excursions — The  Provision  for  Entertaining  the  Children — 
How  the  Excursions  are  Managed — Typical  Letters — Effect  of  the 
Children's  Outings — Some  "Fresh-air  Boys" — The  Physician's  Re- 
port— Fresh-air  Funds  in  Other  Cities — Development  of  the  Plan. 


BOYS'  CLUBS  IN  NEW  YORK 151 

By  evert  JANSEN  WENDELL. 

The  Boys  op  the  Tenements — Street  Life— A  Boy's  Temptations — First 
Idea  op  the  Boys'  Clubs— Their  Management— The  Boys'  Club  of 
St.  Mark's  Place— The  Avenue  C  Working  Boys'  Club— Classes  and 
Amusements— Boys'  Club  of  Calvary  Parish— The  Free  Reading- 
room  for  Boys— The  Manor  Chapel  Boys'  Club — The  North  Side, 
THE  West  Side,  and  Other  Clubs— Some  Club  Documents— Enter- 
tainments—Songs— The  Results— The  Needs  of  a  Successful  Club 
Worker. 


CONTENTS  xiii 


PAGE 

THE  WORK  OF  THE  ANDOVER  HOUSE  IN  BOSTON. . . .  177 

By  WILLIAM  JEWETT  TUCKEK, 

PRESIDENT  OF  DARTMOUTH  COLLEGE  ;  FORMERLY  PROFESSOR  IN  ANDOVER  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY. 
LOWER    AND    HiGHEU    PHILANTHROPY — GROWTH     OF    ORGANIZED     CHARITY— 

ANDOVER  House  and  the  New  Philanthropy — Its  Religious  Motive 
— Training  op  Workers — Origin  of  the  Name — Not  Denominational — 
People  Dealt  with — Robert  A.  Woods — Administration — Principles 
UPON  which  Work  is  Conducted— Boys'  Clubs — The  Question  of  Ten- 
ements— Study  of  Social  Conditions— Greater  Boston— Andover 
House  Association  —  Field  of  Observation  —  Lectures  —  Place  of 
Sympathy  in  Scientific  Work — Growth  of  the  Movement— After 
Four  Ykars. 

AMONG  THE  POOR  OF  CHICAGO 195 

By  JOSEPH  KIEKLAND, 

AUTHOR  OF   "  ZURY,"   ETC. 

Peculiarity  of  Chicago's  Conditions— Wide  Distribution  of  the  Poor 
Population  —  The  Greatest  Poverty  Among  Foreign  Elements  — 
"The  Dive  "—Typical  Families— The  "Bad  Lands  "—China  Town—  / 

The  Clark  Street  Mission  — The  Woman's  Christian  Temperance 
Union— The  Pacific  Garden  Mission— Statistics— The  Unity  Church, 
St.  James's  Chukch,  and  Central  Church  Missions— Volunteer 
Visitors— A  Veteran— Hull  House— Charity  Organizations— The 
Jews'  Quarter  —  The  Liberty  Bell  and  Friendship  Buildings- 
Statistics  OF  A  Sweat  Shop— The  Anarchists— Socialists. 

A  RIVERSIDE  PARISH 240 

By   Sir  WALTER   BESANT, 

AUTHOR  OP  "ALL  SORTS   AND  CONDITIONS  OF   MEN." 

Along  the  Banks  of  the  Thames— The  Port  of  London— The  Sailor 
Population-^Past  Lawlessness  of  the  Riverside  Parishes— Roth- 
ERHiTHE  —  Shipwrights'  and  Other  Strikes  —  The  Parish  of  St. 
James's,  Ratclifp — Its  Social  History — Charitable  Undertakings- 
Clubs  and  Larger  Work— So.\ie  Devoted  Lives, 


xiv  CONTENTS 


PAGE 

A  SCHOOL  FOR  STREET  ARABS ,,.... 275 

By  EDMUND  E.  SPEARMAN, 

AUTHOR  OF  AKTICLES  AND  REPORTS  ON   EDUCATION   IN   FRANCE. 

The  Municipal  Council  op  Paris  and  the  "Morally  Abandoned"— 
Street  Children  without  Care— Plans  of  M.  Brueyre— Dr.  Thulie 
— D'Ale.mbert  School  for  Paris  Street  Boys— Montevrain— Occu- 
pations of  the  Boys— Printing,  the  Turning-shop,  Cabinet-making 
—Value  of  the  Boys'  Work— The  Daily  Routine— The  Drill— The 
Veterans— The  School  Table— Health  Statistics— Future  op  the 
Pupils. 


THE  POOR  IN  NAPLES 300 

By  JESSIE  WHITE  VA.  MAEIO, 

AUTHOR  OF  GOVERNMENT  REPORTS  ON  THE  ITALIAN  POOR. 

Horrible  Condition  op  the  Naples  Poor  a  Quarter  of  a  Century 
Ago — Pasquale  Villari's  Investigations— The  Dwellings— Efforts 
at  Improvement— The  Rampa  di  Brancaccio— The  Cemetery  for  the 
Poor — The  Cholera  op  1884 — Volunteer  Nurses— King  Humbert's 
Visit  and  Reforms — The  Sanitary  Conditions — "Naples  Must  be 
Disembowelled  " — Efforts  of  the  Municipality — The  Evicted  Poor 
— The  New  Buildings— Needs  op  the  City — The  Hospitals — Emi- 
gration. 


AGENCIES  FOR  THE  PREAT^NTION  OF  PAUPERISM..  339 

By  OSCAR  CRAIG, 

LATE  PRESIDENT  OF  THE  NEW  YORK  STATE  BOARD  OP  CHARITIES. 

Poverty  and  Pauperism — The  Four  Classes  op  Our  Population — Pro- 
cesses which  Tend  to  Increase  Pauperism — Pauper  Immigration — 
Laws  to  Control  It  — The  Head  Moneys  — The  Return  of  Alien 
Paupers — The  Big  System  of  Out  Relief — Organized  Charity — As 
AN  Agent  in  the  Prevention  of  Pauperism — The  Charity  Organiza- 
tion   Society   op   New  York  —  Other  Agencies  op  Benevolence  — 


CONTENTS  XV 

PAGE 

CnuRCii  Charities— The  Jews— Treatment  op  the  Insane  Poor — 
Management  of  the  County  Poor-houses— The  Care  op  Dependent 
Children— Repobmatories— The  Discipline  op  Convicts— The  Ques- 
tion OP  Heredity — Mr.  Bhace's  Testimony— The  State  Charities  Aid 
Association— The  Factory  Law. 


THE  NEW  YOKK  TENEMENT-HOUSE  EYIL  AND  ITS 
CURE. 370 

By   EENEST   FLAGG, 

ARCHITECT  OP  ST.    LUIiE'S  HOSPITAL,   ETC.,   ETC. 

Chief  Causes  op  the  Present  Evil— Restrictions  Imposed  by  the  Con- 
ventional City  Lot — Types  op  Tenements  —  Danger  from  Fire  — 
Need  op  Radical  Changes  — Ignorance  in  Regard  to  Economic 
Building  —  The  Art  op  Commercial  Planning  — The  Problem  in 
Other  Cities  — Extravagance  op  Present  Methods  Shown  —  Sug- 
gestions FOR  Improvement—  The  Question  op  Light  — Reform  a 
Matter  op  Business  Advantage. 

INDEX 393 


I. 

I 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 
FULL-PAGE  ILLUSTEATIONS 

PAGE 

Socialism  in  Hyde  Park,  London, Frontisjiiece 

St.  Jude's  Church  at  "Worship  Hour,"  8.30  p.m., 9 

A  Smoking  Conference, 17 

Dramatic    Entertainment    at  the  Boro'   of    Hackney  Workingmen's 

Club, 25 

John  Burns  Addressing  the  Dockers  on  Tower  Hill,     ....  33 

A  New  Tenement  op  the  Bettep.  Sort, 51 

Evicted— On  the  Sidewalk, 63 

Both  Over  Seventy.     "Wood  for  Sale," 79 

The  Mott  Street  Barracks,   .        .        • 93 

Saluting  the  Flag,       . ,107 

"Annie  Rooney"— At  a  Boys'  Club,      . 155 

German  Night  at  Hull  House,  „ 209 

In  a  Sweat-shop, 231 

Searching  the  Men  at  the  Dock  Gates, 255 

Lightermen  After  Dinner  Putting  off  to  Work  from  Ratcliff  Stairs,  271 

An  Evicted  Family  of  Neapolitans, 303 

Gossip  in  Pending  Street,  Naples, 311 


xviii  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAOE 

Cheap  Bathing, 319 

The  Pleasures  of  Idleness, .        .    335 


ILLUSTRATIONS  IN  THE  TEXT 

Auctioning  Fish  in  the  "Bitter  Cry"  District  of  London,  .        .        .  2 
Rev.    Samuel  A.    Barnett,   Vicar    of  St.   Jude's,   Whitechapel,    and 

Warden  of  Toynbee  Hall, 4 

Making  Tambourine  Frames  at  the  Salvation    Army  Factory,  Han- 
bury  Street 5 

Prayer-meeting  at  a  Salvation  Army  Factory, 7 

General  Booth,  Commander-in-Chief  of  the  Salvation  Army,  .         .  11 
Making  up  Bundles  of  Firewood  at  the  Salvation  Army  Factory, 

Hanbury  Street, 14 

The  Work  of  the  Country  Holiday  Fund,          ....  16 

In  the  Quadrangle,  Toynbee  Hall, 19 

Dining-room,  Toynbee  Hall 21 

Drawing-room,  Toynbee  Hall, 22 

The  People's  Palace, 2 J 

The  Library"  of  the  People's  Palace, ,  27 

Charles  Booth,  Author  op  "  Labor  and  Life  of  the  People,"     .         ,  29 

The  Queen's  Hall  in  the  People's  Palace,     ......  31 

John  Burns,                 ,        .  36 

Tom  Mann, 37 

A  Lecture  at  the  Fabian  Society,  Essex  Hall — A  Question  from  the 

Rear,  ...                         ,  39 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS  xix 

PAGE 

The  Library,  Toynbee  Hall, 41 

The  Home  op  a  Thousand  People, 44 

The  Bright  Side  of  Life  in  a  Tenement-house, 40 

The  Dark  Side— Under  the  Same  Roof, 47 

Pig  Alley, 49 

A  Grandfather  Cutting  Carpet-rags, 55 

Poverty  and  Death, 58 

A  Hovel  in  the  Italian  Quarter, 61 

The  Monroe  Model  Tenement, 67 

An  Invalid  Supporting  His  Family  by  Making  Lace,    ....  70 

The  Poor  Helping  the  Poor — Distributing  Thanksgiving  Dinners,     .  73 

A  Missionary  Workshop — De  Witt  Memorial  Church  (non-sectarian),  75 

"I  scrubs." — Katie,  who  Keeps  House  in  West  Forty-ninth  Street,  .  87 
The   Late    Charles    Loring   Brace,    Founder   of   the  Children's  Aid 

Society, 90 

2  A.M.  IN  THE  Delivery  Room  in  the  "  Sun  "  Office,         ....  97 

PiETiio  Learning  to  Make  an  Englis'  Letter 101 

The  Backstairs  to  Learning, 104 

A  Synagogue  School  in  a  Hester  Street  Tenement,  .        .        .        .  113 

Night  School  in  the  Seventh  Avenue  Boys'  Lodging  House,         .        .  116 

"  The  Soup-House  Gang," 119 

Present  Tenants  op  John  Ericsson's  Old  House, 133 

A  Warm  Corner  for  Newsboys  on  a  Cold  Night, 126 

"Buffalo," 128 

The  Carpenters'  Shop— Avenue  C  Working  Boys'  Club,       .        .        .  153 


XX  LIST  OF  ILLVSTBATIONS 

PAGE 

Typesetting  at  the  Avenue  C  Working  Boys'  Club,       ....  160 

A  Stereopticon  Lecture— The  Boys'  Club  of  the  Wilson  Mission,   .  163 

Entrance  to  Boys'  Club  of  the  Wilson  Mission, 165 

A  Good-natured  Scrap, 168 

A  Boys'  Club  Reading-Room, .         .        .171 

Lining  Up  to  go  into  the  Gymnasium,      . 174 

Familiar  Scene  in  an  Underground  Lodging, 197 

A  Chicago  Underground  Lodging, 199 

Sunday  Afternoon  in  the  Italian  Quarter, 202 

Italian  Mothers, 204 

"  The  Dive," 207 

Hull  House  Creche,  or  Day  Nursery 213 

"Temperance  Temple," .  216 

Russian  Jews  at  "Shelter  House," 219 

Another  Group  at  "Shelter  House,"         .        .        .        .        .        .        .  223 

A  Waif  at  the  Mission  Dormitory, 225 

The  "Bad  Lands," 228 

Laundry  and  Bath  at  the  Liberty  Bell 234 

"Liberty  Bell," 236 

The  Riverside  St.  James's,  Ratclifp, 240 

A  Sketch  in  the  Docks, 241 

"Their  First  Yearning  is  for  Finery," 246 

A  Mothers'  Meeting, 248 

Children  at  Prayer  in  the  Chapel,  Heckford  House,        .        .  249 

"Her  bowsprit  and  her  figurehead  stick  out  over  the  street,"      .  251 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS  xxi 

PAQE 

A  Little  Dance  at  the  Girls'  Institute, 253 

The  Quaker  Meeting-House, 258 

Boys  Playing  Bagatelle  in  Heckfokd  House, 261 

Brushmaker,  St.  James's,  Ratcliff, ,  263 

The  Choir  op  the  Parish  Church,     . 265 

Smoking  Concert  at  the  Tee-to-tum,  St.  James's,  Ratcliff,  .        .        .  267 

The  Sewing  Class,  Girl's  Institute, 269 

The  D'Alembert  School  Buildings  at  Montevrain, 279 

The  Printing  Office,     . 383 

The  Carpenter  Shop, 288 

The  Drum  Major, 292 

The  Trumpeter, 293 

A  Girl  of  the  People, 306 

An  Old  Street  in  the  Poor  Quarter  being  Metamorphosed,         .        .  309 

Begging  Hands, 315 

"Hunger,"  a  Sketch  in  the  Poor  Quarter,- 317 

On  the  Stairs  of  Santa  Lucia,   .........  323 

Where  Street  Arabs  Sleep, o        .        .        .        .  326 

Interior  of  a  Poor  Quarter, 329 

One  of  the  New  Blocks  of  Tenements  in  Naples, 383 

Tenement-House  Plans, 373-889 


THE  SOCIAL  AWAKENING  IN  LONDON 
By  EGBERT   A.  WOODS, 

HEAD  OF  ANDOVER  HOUSE,   BOSTON,    AND  SOMETIME  RESIDENT  AT  TOTNBEE  HAIX 

The  East  End — The  GitowTH  of  Knowledge  op  the  Poou — Chuhch  Work— 
The  Salvation'  Army — Charity  Organizations— The  Social  MovejMent 
AT  THE  Universities — Edward  Denison — Arnold  Toynbee — Samuel  A. 
Barnett — Toynbee  Hall— Oxford  House — The  University  Settlements 
— The  People's  Palace — The  Kyrle  Society — Socialistic  Organization 
—John  Burns— The  New  Trade-Unionism — The  Fabian  Society — The 
London  Government — Mr.  Charles  Booth. 

THERE  is  a  place  hi  Loudon  —  as  Leadeiiliall  Street,  comin,£;- 
past  the  site  of  the  East  India  House,  runs  into  Ahlgate — 
where  in  a  few  stejis  one  parts  'company  with  the  decreasing 
number  of  merchants  and  clerks,  and  is  swept  into  the  strange  cur- 
rent of  East-End  humanity.  One  feels  a  sudden  chill,  as  when 
passing-  out  of  a  warm  breeze  into  another  with  a  touch  of  coming- 
winter  in  it.  Aldgate  is  still,  almost  as  distinctly  as  when  the  wall 
stood,  the  limit  in  that  direction  of  the  old  City  of  London  ;  while 
the  movement  of  life  from  the  East  End  turns  sharply  to  the  north 
there,  going-  up  through  Houndsditch,  the  region  of  old  clothes, 
trafficked  in  through  brokers  and  exchanges  after  the  manner  of 
other  lines  of  commerce. 

From  this  point  several  miles  eastward,  from  the  water  several 
miles  northward,  live  a  million  people,  whose  existence  is  very 
largely  taken  up  with  a  close  struggle  against  poverty.  A  hundred 
thousand  East  Londoners  rise  each  morning  with  little  or  no  assur- 
ance as  to  where  their  daily  bread  may  come  from.     Another  great 


titf:  pooh  in  great  cities 


Auct'onmg   Fish   in  the    "  Bitter  Cry  "   District  of  London. 


re.o-ion,  equal  in  size  and  population  to  the  East  End,  and  on  a  par 
witli  it  as  to  social  conditions,  stretches  off  to  the  south  from  the 
river  Thames.  So  much  of  London  may  fairly  be  said  to  be  given 
over  to  poverty.  But  this  is  not  to  say  that  poverty  is  absent  else- 
where. It  is  never  far  away  in  London.  The  Seven  Dials,  like  the 
Five  Points  in  New  York,  has  lost  its  old  identity ;  but  such  regions 
as  Drury  Lane  still  remain,  and  St,  Luke's,  and  even  the  quarter 
which  stands  in  contrast  to  the  nation's  historic  glory  at  West- 
minster. 

But  the  East  End  will  still  continue  to  be  thought  of  in  a  special 
way  as  the  nether  Loudon.     It  has  a  clearly  marked  life  of  its  own. 


THE  SOCIAL  AWAKENING  IN  LONDON  3 

South-London  life  is  characterized  by  a  pathetic  monoton}'.  East 
Loudon  has  its  gloom  lit  up  by  many  picturesque  features.  A  walk 
down  the  broad  High  Street  on  a  Saturday  evening,  among  the 
dockers,  with  their  slouched  caps  and  liaunel  neckcloths,  the  factory 
girls  in  their  plumage  hired  by  the  week,  and  the  many  curious 
types  of  people — gazing  into  the  glaring  shop  windows  :  ins])ecting 
and  variously  testing  the  wares  of  the  booths  set  up  by  the  road- 
side, which  have  gone  far  on  the  Avay  of  all  earthly  treasures,  moth- 
eaten,  rusted,  if  not  indeed  stolen ;  listening  to  the  noisy  fakirs :  or 
joining  in  the  sports  of  the  improvised  fair — gives  one  a  strong 
sense  of  the  romantic  side  of  existence  in  the  East  End. 

It  is  this  quality,  in  addition  to  the  extremity  of  its  need,  that 
has  done  so  much  toward  making-  East  London,  for  the  world  at 
large,  the  classic  ground  of  poverty.  The  new  efibrts  for  the  eleva- 
tion of  East  Londoners,  of  which  nearly  everyone  has  by  this  time 
heard  the  rumor,  are  coniirming  the  claim  to  an  undesirable  pre- 
eminence. Toynbee  Hall  and  the  People's  Palace  are  now  entered 
in  Baedeker,  and  one  wonders  whether  the  majority  of  their  visit- 
ors are  not  made  uj)  from  the  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
Americans  who  in  the  early  weeks  of  summer  populate  the  great 
hotels  and  the  lodging-houses  qf  Bloomsbury.  It  is  a  good  thing: 
if  it  is  so.  In  America  they  are  kept  from  a  full  sympathy  with 
their  poorer  brethren  not  only  by  the  barrier  of  different  social 
position,  but  by  the  more  impassable  barrier  of  alien  race.  In 
London  the  faces  of  the  poor  have  the  familiar  Anglo-Saxon  linea- 
ments. One  of  the  unsuspected  reasons  for  that  home  feeling  which 
all  intelligent  Americans  experience  in  London  is  that  there  they 
are  able  to  see  themselves  in  tatters.  It  is  this  fact  especiall}^  which 
causes  the  average  American  to  return  from  even  a  carriage  ride 
in  the  East  End  with  some  new  care  for  the  men  and  women  who 
have  to  pass  their  lives  in  a  great  city's  closely  crowded  quarters. 

The  little  tract,  "The  Bitter  Cry  of  Outcast  London,"  which  in 
1883  precipitated  the  agitation  as  to  the  condition  of  the  poor,  to<jk 
its  facts  very  largely  from  South  London,  from  a  region  where  the 


4  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

Loudon  ( 'ong-regational  Union  luis  one  of  its  outposts.  Collier's 
Eents,  as  it  is  called,  seems  like  an  eddy  in  the  vast  current  of  Lon- 
don life.  It  has  drawn  in  those  who  could  hardly  float  with  the  tide. 
It  is  at  a  distance  from  any  main  avenue  of  travel.  Long-  Lane  is 
its  thoroughfare  and  avenue  of  trade  in  stale  provisions;  and  its  side 

opening's  are  noisome 
alleys  and  dark,  wind- 
ing passage-ways.  A 
night  journey  through 
Collier's  Rents,  under 
the  guidance  of  a  mis- 
si  on  ary,  gives  one 
enough  to  see  to  assure 
him  that  the  picture  of 
existence  given  in  the 
tract  is  in  no  way  over- 
drawn. One  also  has 
the  feeling  that  Eng- 
V.  lish    people,    in    their 

I*  concern  brought  on  by 

*  ,  the  knowledge  of  such 

;  ■  ..  a  state  of  things,  have 

not  estimated  too  great- 
ly the  shame  of  it,  and, 
in  the  higher  sense,  its 


'"^    ' 
-"^-^^-t 


">V% 


Rev.   Samuel  A.   Barnett,  Vicar  of  St.  Jude's,  Whitechapel,   and  Warden  -i 

of  Toynbee   Hall.  ClangCr. 

The  social  awaken- 
ing began  in  an  agitation.  All  classes  were  moved  by  it.  The 
state  of  the  London  poor  was  felt  to  be  to  English  civilization 
something  like  an  imputation  of  failure.  It  touched  British  pride, 
and,  l)y  the  ver}'  greatness  of  the  difliculty,  stirred  that  w^onder- 
ful  reserve  energy  which  distinguishes  the  British  race.  Each 
of  the  various  elements  in  the  life  of  London  felt  the  summons. 
And  so  the  social  awakening  has  many  phases.     It   includes  one 


THE  SOCIAL  AWAKENING  IN  LONDON 


of  the  most  siguilicaiit  labor  movements  iu  the  whole  history  of 
labor  since  the  Egyptians  lost  their  Israelitish  slaves.  There  is  a 
social  movement  from  the  universities  ;  there  is  a  social  movement 
in  art ;  a  strong  social  movement  in  politics  ;  and  a  social  move- 
ment, having  much  of  the  impulse  of  original  Christianity,  in  the 
Church.  These 
all,  according  to 
English 


go 


nature, 
their    several 


ways.  They  know 
little  about  each 
other.  They  do 
not  hold  joint  con- 
ventions, nor  or- 
ganize bulky  fed- 
erations —  each 
sacrificing  much 
of  what  makes  it 
worth  while,  in  or- 
der to  unite  with 
the  rest.  Each  is 
rather  inclined  to 
minimize  the  in- 
fluence of  the  oth- 
ers. And  yet  they 
are  having  a  united  influence  which  is  bound  in  a  large  degree  to 
make  over  the  life  of  London,  making  it  prolific  in  resources  for 
the  educational  and  moral  advancement  of  the  people,  and  for  com 
prehensive  economic  and  political  administration. 

The  East  End  of  London  as  a  field  for  work  among  the  poor  was 
in  undisputed  possession  of  the  Church,  at  least  from  the  time  of  the 
Franciscans,  who  had  a  mission  station  just  inside  the  wall,  down 
to  the  present  generation.  If  its  work  has  but  slightly  met  the 
problem  of  London  poverty,  it  has  at  least  held  its  ground  until  in 


Making  Tambourine    Frames  at  the   Salvation   Army   Factory,    Hanbury   Street. 


C  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

these  last  days  there  has  begun  to  be  a  feeling-  that  other  elements 
in  society  also  owe  a  debt  to  the  two  great  cities  of  the  poor  which 
are  included  within  the  limits  of  the  metropolis.  The  Church,  in 
all  its  branches,  is  meanwhile  learning  to  magnify  its  office  to  the 
people.  It  finds  that  those  whose  life  is  almost  filled  with  the 
straggle  for  physical  existence,  who  know  as  yet  hardly  anything 
about  the  human  side  of  life,  are  in  no  way  the  fit  objects  of  a  merely 
religious  ministry.  They  must  be  sought  where  they  are.  They 
must  be  helped  toward  a  healthier  and  happier  state  of  being,  be- 
fore they  can  be  sensitive  to  appeals  to  the  finer  nature.  And  so 
churches  in  the  poorer  parts  of  London  are  fast  coming  to  fill  the 
highly  Christian  use  of  centres  for  every  influence  toward  the  better 
life.  So  far  as  he  has  light  and  power,  a  clergyman  in  East  or 
South  London  is,  in  a  very  deep  sense,  eyes  to  the  blind  and  feet  to 
the  impotent.  In  another  point  of  view,  he  often  shows  much  of 
that  new  kind  of  statesmanship  which  aims  to  organize  a  body  of 
people,  larger  or  smaller,  for  the  enjoyment  of  all  that  anywhere 
makes  life  more  fully  worth  the  living. 

The  churches  of  the  Establishment  in  London  enter  upon  their 
social  work  with  the  double  advantage  of  the  parish  system,  by  which 
each  church  has  a  definite  responsibility  for  a  certain  district ;  and 
of  the  long  tradition  which  makes  it  natural  for  a  church  to  have  a 
number  of  workers  with  a  variety  of  occupation.  But  otherwise 
they  are  not  more  forward  than  the  Nonconformist  chapels  and  mis- 
sion societies,  in  entering  upon  the  new  duties  which  new  occasions 
have  brought. 

Everywhere  the  work  of  charity — which  has  always  been  a  con- 
spicuous part  of  the  activity  of  Christian  churches — is  being  done 
with  increasing  wisdom  and  eft'ectiveness.  The  sick  among  the 
poor  are  ministered  to  by  regular  visitors,  and  in  many  cases  by 
trained  nurses  assigned  to  special  districts.  Social  clubs  for  men, 
for  Avomen,  and  for  young  people  relieve  the  hardness  and  mo- 
notony of  existence  from  day  to  day,  and  counteract  the  fascination 
of  evil.     Some  churches  invite  trade-unions  to  meet  in  their  parish 


THE  SOCIAL   AWAKENING   IN  LONDON 


Prayer-meeting  at  a  Salvation   Army   Factory. 


rooms,  and  thus  save  them  from  accepting-  the  hospitality  of  the 
pnl)lic  hduse.  The  matter  of  recreation  is  being-  taken  np  in  a  way 
that  our  Puritan  chnrclies  in  America  can  as  yet  but  dimly  appre- 
ciate.    Of  two  very  ritualistic  churches,  one  has  occasional  dancing' 


8  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

ill  its  piiiisli  house,  which  seems  uoiie  the  less  enjoyable  ou  account 
of  the  young  cassocked  ascetics  who  stand  solemnly  by ;  and  the 
other,  in  a  criminal  quarter,  has  a  larg-e  boys'  club,  with  new  ap- 
plicants constantly  begging-  to  be  admitted,  Avhose  main  feature  is 
prize  sparring  contests.  At  St.  Jude's  Church,  in  Whitechapel,  of 
which  the  Eev.  Samuel  A,  Barnett,  founder  of  Toynbee  Hall,  is  the 
vicar,  there  is  every  year  a  picture  exhibition  lasting  for  three 
weeks,  including  Sundays,  which  was  visited  the  last  time  by  sev- 
enty thousand  peojjle.  This  same  church  has  a  unique  musical 
service  called  "The  Worship  Hour,"  on  Sunday  evening,  at  wdiich 
the  seats  are  nearly  all  taken  by  an  audience  including  even  some 
of  those  hapless  castaways  of  humanity,  such  as  are  seldom  seen  in 
church,  even  in  East  London.  From  this  kind  of  service,  and  the 
frequent  organ  recitals,  and  oratorios  given  in  churches,  to  the 
brass-band  concert  which  forms  part  of  the  exercises  at  the  Rev. 
Hugh  Price  Hughe's  great  Wesleyan  West-London  Mission,  and 
even  to  the  timbrels  of  the  Salvation  lasses,  music  is  found  to  he 
one  of  the  essential  means  of  grace. 

It  goes  almost  without  saying  that  the  churches  in  London  are 
still  far  from  meeting  the  critical  facts  of  life  under  the  extremes  of 
povei-ty  and  degradation.  The  Salvation  Army,  with  all  its  gro- 
tesqueness,  stands  for  a  sympathetic  and  thorough-going  attempt  to 
meet  these  facts,  before  which  the  churches  are  standing  powerless. 
The  Array  acknowledges  the  failure  of  merely  evangelistic  meth- 
ods. And  now  first  for  London,  afterward  wherever  its  soldiers  go, 
the  enthusiasm  of  this  unique  and  wonderful  organization  is  to  run 
in  the  channels  of  social  activity.  Ever  since  1884  the  slum  sisters 
have  been  freely  going  in  and  out  like  sweet  angels  among  the 
haunts  of  the  lost.  For  as  long  a  time,  the  prison-gate  brigades 
have  been  setting  discharged  convicts  on  the  way  to  manhood 
again.  But  the  large  scheme  of  the  book  "  In  Darkest  England," 
of  which  an  encouraging  yearly  report  has  just  been  published,  is 
intended  to  be  a  comprehensive  mission  of  helpfulness  to  all  the 
elements  of  people  in  the  lower  social  grades. 


•.■mmfx-i-'-'  "  ■■.!«■"  1 


ST.  JUDE'S    CHURCH    AT    "WORSHIP    HOUR,"    8.30    P.M. 


THE  SOCIAL   AWAKENING  IN  LONDON 


11 


The  food  and  shelter  depots,  Avhich  have  displaced  the  meetmj;;- 
halls  in  several  instances,  take  care  of  those  who  are  without  other 
resort,  at  a  charge  of  fourpence  for  supper,  lodginpr,  and  breakfast. 
Thence  the  men  are  introduced  into  the  Army's  factories  and  work- 
shops, where  they  are  put  to  wood-chopping-,  mat-making-,  carpeu- 


General    Booth,   Commander-in-Chief  of  the   Salvation   Army. 
(From  a  photograph  by  Elliott  A  Fry,  Loudon.) 

tering-,  and  other  industries.  The  women  are  employed  at  sewing 
and  laundry-work,  and  in  the  match  factory.  There  are  homes  spe- 
cially provided  for  the  wards  of  the  slum  corps  and  of  the  prison - 
gate  brigades,  where  they  are  given  work  suitable  to  their  skill 
and  strength.  The  general  city  colony  has  already  found  its  outlet 
in  a  large  rural  community,  which  is  to  be  a  training  place  for  farm 


12  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT   CITIES 

Avork  and  shop  work ;  for  the  different  tasks  which  the  living  of  life 
imposes,  and  for  some  of  the  consolations  which  it  affords.  Aside 
from  the  united  force  which  the  discipline  of  the  Army  gives  it  for 
undertaking  such  a  movement,  its  followers,  more  than  any  other 
type  of  person  in  these  days,  are  moved  by  a  passion  for  the  out- 
cast and  distressed.  In  the  presence  of  so  rare  a  feeling  of  human- 
ity, the  technical  objections  that  have  been  urged  against  the 
scheme  have  seemed  rather  empty.  One  cannot  but  believe  that 
there  is  a  suggestion  in  this  scheme  of  other  better  schemes  which 
shall  lead  us  toward  that  devoutly  to  be  wished  consummation,  the 
abolition  of  poverty,  of  which,  even  so  judicious  an  authority  as 
Professor  Marshall  bids  lis  not  to  despair. 

The  effort  to  reduce  to  the  semblance  of  a  system  the  almost  in- 
finitely variou.s  and  numerous  charities  of  London  has  been  con- 
tinued through  the  past  twenty  years  with  really  encouraging 
success.  Every  district  in  the  metropolis  has,  in  addition  to  its 
public  relieving  office,  a  head-quarters  for  the  administration  of 
voluntary  charity.  The  disl^^'ict  secretaries  are  coming  to  be  per- 
sons of  special  skill  and  training.  Each  local  committee  is  com- 
posed of  re^jresentatives  of  the  charitable  agencies  at  work  in  its 
district.  In  the  East  End  the  members  of  committees  are  largely 
men  and  women  who  live  in  other  parts  of  the  metropolis,  but  take 
up  a  sort  of  partial  citizenship  in  one  or  another  poor  district.  The 
influence  of  charity  organization  in  banishing  beggary  and  what- 
ever would  confirm  the  poor  in  pauperism  has  been  very  marked. 
It  is  almost  a  part  of  popular  ethics  now  in  London  to  refrain  from 
giving  Avithout  due  investigation.  And  many  have  arrived  at  the 
higher  stage  where  they  cari  see  the  importance  and  the  human  in- 
terest of  learning  for  themselves  how  the  poor  live,  and  of  helping 
them  as  their  deepest  needs  require. 

Charity  organization  is  taking  a  wider  scope  as  it  progresses. 
It  is  making  its  framework  available  for  those  better  forms  of  charity 
which  have  to  do  with  prevention.  It  has  given  a  clue  to  various 
associations  for  befriending  children  and  young   people.     Among 


'THE  SOCIAL  AWAKENING  IN  LONDON  13 

these  is  the  Country  Holiday  Fund,  which,  every  summer,  sends 
twenty  thousand  shim  chiklren  singing'  through  the  underground 
tunnels  on  their  way  to  the  sunny  fields.  The  Charity  Organiza- 
tion Society  also  lends  facilities  to  a  most  useful  society  which  is 
taking  in  charge  the  question  of  the  sanitary  conditions  of  ten- 
ement-houses. Indeed,  the  newer  tendencies  of  organized  charity 
begin  to  impart  to  this  kind  of  work  a  kind  of  attraction  such  as 
one  has  not  been  able  to  feel  before.  The  leaders  are  now  going 
forward  in  the  attempt  to  make  each  district  committee  include  rep- 
resentatives of  every  agency  working  in  any  way  for  the  bettering 
of  the  local  community — churches,  schools,  parish  officials,  relief 
societies,  working-men's  provident  organizations,  trade-unions,  co- 
operative stores.  With  the  combination  of  these  forces  the  aim  is 
to  have  each  committee  take  in  hand  the  Avhole  social  situation  in 
its  own  district,  endeavoring  to  bring  the  people  to  a  true  under- 
standing of  this  situation,  and  to  a  willingness  each  to  do  his  share 
toward  making  existence  in  that  district  wholesome  and  enjoyable. 

With  this  comprehensive  system,  centred  in  one  metropolitan 
council,  it  becomes  possible  for  the  Charity  Organization  Society 
to  wield  a  considerable  influence  upon  matters  that  affect  the  con- 
ditions of  life  in  London.  There  is  only  one  regret  about  it  all.  It 
is  that  the  methods  of  the  Society  lack,  to  a  degree,  the  element  of 
sympathy.  So  much  of  its  work  has  all  along  had  to  do  with  curb- 
ing harmful  sentiment,  that  it  is  likely  to  be  suspicious  of  senti- 
ment in  any  form.  A  man  holding  a  high  position  in  the  Society, 
who  acknowledged  the  difficulty,  is  responsible  for  the  statement — 
which  I  hope  it  may  not  seem  unchivalrous  to  repeat — that  the 
women  members  of  the  committees  were  oftener  unsympathetic 
with  their  "  cases  "  than  the  men.  The  explanation  of  this  anomaly 
seems  to  be  that  when  the  finer  feelings  are  put  under  restraint,  as 
must  be  in  the  administration  of  charity,  women  come  more  com- 
pletely than  men  under  the  letter  of  rigid  precepts. 

The  special  signs  of  the  social  awakening  among  the  more  fa- 
vored classes  are  to  be  found  not  so  much  in  the  development  of 


14 


TJIK  POOR  ly   GREAT   CITIES 


Making  up   Bundles  of  Firewood   at  the   Salvation  Army   Factory,    Hanbury  Street. 


previously  existing-  agencies  as  in  the  making  of  neAv  experiments. 
These  at  first  are  necessarily  on  a  small  scale,  and  afiect  only  their 
OAvn  particular  localities.  But  already  the  success  of  some  of  these 
experiments  has  suggested  that  it  is  practicable  to  repeat  them  in 
the  difl'erent  working-class  districts  of  the  metropolis.  As  a  result, 
there  are  now  taking  their  place  in  the  life  of  London  new  kinds  of 
profession,  new  forms  of  institution,  new  lines  of  education,  new 
phases  of  literature.  How  much  it  means  for  the  future  that  the 
idea  of  social  duty  and  an  interest  in  social  activity  are  beginning- 
so  largely  to  give  character  to  thought  and  work  at  the  universities ! 
The  social  movement  originating-  at  the  universities  has  had  a 
quality  of  the  moral  picturesque  from  which  neither  cynicism  nor 
fashionable  cultivation  has  been  able  to  take  away  the  charm.     The 


THE  SOCIAL  AWAKENING  IN  LONDON  15 

appeal  to  the  imagiuation  wliicli  it  lias  made  lias  exercised  a  most 
potent  influence  in  removing-  the  impression  that  work  among  the 
poor  was  diilness  and  weariness,  and  that  utterly.  The  power  to 
make  social  service  truly  interesting-,  one  might  almost  say,  has  been 
the  determining-  factor  in  the  present  great  changes  that  are  going 
on  in  England.  It  was  this  power  that  constituted  the  great  dis- 
tinction of  John  Ruskin.  Every  department  of  social  activity  in 
England  has  been  stirred  by  his  message.  The  men  who  founded 
the  first  university  settlement  are  in  a  special  sense  his  fol- 
lowers. 

But  the  settlements  stand  for  certain  principles  that  are  quite 
out  of  the  scope  of  the  criticism  that  is  always  waged  against  the 
sentimental  side  of  such  a  movement.  They  stand  distinctly  for  the 
fact,  not  before  accepted,  but  now  growing  more  and  m.6ve  clear, 
that  social  work  demands  the  close,  continued  care  of  men  and 
women  of  the  best  gifts  and  training.  They  show  that  if  society 
Avould  start  afresh  the  glow  of  life  in  its  far-out  members,  it  must 
bring  there  the  same  fulness  and  variety  of  resource  that  is  needed 
to  keep  life  glowing  at  the  centre.  They  are  also  the  beginning  of 
a  better  understanding-  of  the  truth  which  is  confessed,  but  not  be- 
lieved, that  where  one  member  suffers  all  the  members  suffer  with 
it.  In  a  just  view  of  the  case,  the  massing  together  of  the  well-to- 
do  over  against  the  poor,  neither  group  knoAving  how  the  other  lives, 
involves  as  great  evil  to  the  one  side  as  to  the  other. 

In  1867  Edward  Denison,  a  young  Oxford  man,  born  to  that 
inclination  toward  public  duty  which  characterizes  the  high-class 
Englishman,  conceived  the  purpose  of  endeavoring  to  meet  some  of 
the  problems  of  poverty  by  taking  up  his  abode  in  the  midst  of  the 
poor.  He  went  into  the  parish  where  John  Richard  Green,  as  vicar, 
was  heroically  at  work.  Denison  died  in  a  few  years,  and  in  1875 
Arnold  Toynbee,  a  young  tutor  at  Oxford,  first  took  up  his  residence 
in  Whitechapel  during  the  long  vacation.  Several  summers  were 
spent  in  visiting-  as  a  friend  among-  the  people  and  joining  with 
working-men  in  the  management  of  their  clubs.     But  failing  health 


10 


THE  POOR  IN  GREAT   CITIES 


compelled  liim  to  r(^]iiiqinsli  Lis  social  work,  and  in  1883  lie,  too, 
came  to  an  early  death. 

It  Avas  just  when  Toynbee's  friends  at  Oxford  were  planning,  in 
devotion  to  his  memory,  to  take  up  some  of  the  work  which  he  had 
left  unfinished,  that  the  feeling  of  anxiety  caused  by  "The  Bitter 
Cry  '■  was  at  its  height  in  London.     And  Mr.  Barnett,  who  had  been 


The   Work  of  the  Country   Holiday  Fund. 
(Underground  train  tilled  with  little  tamin?  singing  '■  Annie  Rooney."') 

working  for  ten  years  in  Whitechapel,  came  to  Oxford  and  met  this 
little  circle  in  a  college  room.  He  told  them  that  it  would  be  of  lit- 
tle use  merely  to  secure  a  room  in  East  London  where  LTniversity 
Extension  lectures  might  be  given,  as  they  were  thinking  of  doing. 
He  said  that  every  message  to  the  poor  would  be  vain  if  it  did  not 
come  expressed  in  the  life  of  brother-men.  With  this,  he  proposed 
his  plan  for  a  settlement  of  university  men,  where  a  group  should 
reside  together,  and  make  their  home  a  living  centre  of  all  elevating 


1^  - 


\>1\''J' 


THE  SOCIAL  AWAKENING  IN  LONDON 


19 


iutluences.  There  was  that  touch  of  inspiration  about  the  plan 
which  is  able  to  bring-  into  form  and  substance  a  somewhat  vag-ue 
and  transcendental  idea.  A  small  settlement  was  at  once  begun  in 
temporary  quarters.  The  cooperation  of  Cambridge  was  soon  se- 
cured. In  a  little  more  than  a  year  a  suitable  building-  was  com- 
pleted, and  the  work  of  Toynbee  Hall  began. 


. /n 


Toynbee  Hall  is  essentially  a  transplant  of  university  life  in 
Whitechapel.  Tlie  quadi-angle,  the  gables,  the  diamond-paned  win- 
dows, the  larg-e  g-eneral  rooms,  especially  the  dining--room  with  its 
brilliant  frieze  of  college  shields,  all  make  the  place  seem  not  so 
distant  from  the  dreamy  walks  by  the  Isis  or  the  Cam.     But  these 


20  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

thing's  are  not  so  miicli  for  the  sake  of  the  university  men  as  of  their 
neighbors,  that  they  may  breathe  a  little  of  the  charmed  atmos- 
phere. For  this  purpose  Toynbee  Hall  becomes  a  hospitable  home. 
All  that  it  includes  of  earnestness,  learning,  skill,  and  whatever 
may  rise  out  of  a  spirit  of  friendliness,  is  meant  to  be  put  at  the 
service  of  the  people  of  the  East  End.  Everyone  that  is  in  any 
way  in  relation  with  what  goes  on  at  the  Hall  is  now  and  then  the 
guest  of  the  residents  at  some  informal  gathering.  Particular  pro- 
vision is  even  made  that  the  residents  may  ask  their  new-made 
friends  to  break  bread  with  them. 

The  fifteen  or  twenty  men  constantly  at  the  Hall,  together  Avitli 
a  considerable  body  of  associate  workers,  by  the  skilled  direction 
of  Mr.  Barnett,  have  been  able  to  accomplish  some  valuable  results 
for  the  improvement  of  politics  and  social  life  in  Whitechapel. 
There  is  a  jDublic  library  in  Whitechapel  to-day — beside  the  Toyn- 
bee Hall  library — voted  for  by  the  local  constituency  as  a  result  of 
political  canvassing  from  Toynbee  Hall.  The  great  improvement  in 
facilities  for  housing  the  people,  in  the  administration  of  charity, 
and  in  the  respect  for  law  and  order  shows  striking  results  of  the 
work  of  the  warden  and  residents.  As  for  the  increase  of  the 
healthful  pleasures  of  life  which  has  been  brought  about  in  that 
joyless  region,  it  is  alone  enough  to  justify  the  faith  of  the  found- 
ers. The  lines  for  a  people's  university  are  being  broadly  and 
soundly  laid.  A  long  list  of  courses  of  study  is  carried  through,  to 
the  advantage  of  thirteen  hundred  students,  male  and  female.  The 
facilities  for  study  are  gradually  being  improved,  and  there  are 
now  two  houses  adjacent  to  Toynbee  Hall  Avhere  forty  young  men, 
members  of  the  classes,  live  a  kind  of  college  life.  In  addition  to 
all  the  classes,  each  week  during  the  winter  there  is  a  concert,  two 
popular  lectures,  and  a  smoking  conference.  At  the  smoking  con- 
ference specimens  appear  of  nearly  every  sort  of  East  Londoner — 
all  brought  together  by  that  general  instinct  for  debate,  which  is 
only  a  turn  of  the  old  imconquerable  spirit  of  the  Briton. 

The  second  settlement — the  Oxford  House  in  Bethnal  Green — 


THE  80V I AL  AM'AKENING  IN  LONDON 


21 


took  a  more  distinctly  religious  basis.  In  addition  to  carrying-  on 
many  efforts  similar  to  those  at  Toynbee  Hall,  the  Oxford  House  men 
enter  actively  into  the  work  of  the  neighboring  churches,  preach 
out-of-doors,  and  have  Sunday  services  and  addresses  in  their  own 


;  fu  i^&sipjkft-v 


■   -        ^ 


hall.  The  University  Club,  which  is  carried  on  under  its  auspices, 
is  the  most  successful  working-men's  club  of  its  kind  in  London.  It 
has  about  fifteen  hundred  members,  and  inchides  a  great  variety  of 
featiires.  It  is  kept  from  being  lost  in  its  extensiveness  by  having 
the  constant  support  and  direction  of  Mr.  P.  R.  Buchanan,  a  City 
merchant,  who  lives  in  Bethnal  Green  with  his  family  for  the  sake 


22 


THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 


of  entering"  into  an  intimate,  lielpfnl  relation  with  working'  people. 
The  clnb  building-  has  thus  far  been  the  head-quarters  of  the  larg-er 
activities  of  the  Oxford  House,  and  the  residents  have  occupied  a 
disused  parish-school  building'.  But  they  expect  by  midsummer  to 
enter  the  new  Oxford  House,  which  will  be  well  suited  to  all  the 
needs  of  the  settlement. 

In  various  parts  of  London  there  are  colleg-e  missions,  some  of 
which  were  carried  on  before  thp  university  settlements  Avere  estab- 
lished. Altogether  they  number  more  than  twenty.  In  most  cases 
a  mission  is  merely  kept  going*  by  funds  from  the  college  or  pre- 


THE  SOCIAL  AWAKENING  IN  LONDON  23 

paratory  school  for  which  it  is  named,  the  missioner  being  a  gradu- 
ate ;  but  now  the  missions  are  more  and  more  coming-  to  liave 
g-roups  of  residents.  For  the  rest  of  the  settlements,  there  are : 
the  Women's  University  Settlement  in  South wark,  which  has  sug- 
g-ested  the  Mayfield  House  in  Bethnal  Green,  St.  Jude's  House  in 
Whitechapel,  and  a  new  women's  settlement  in  Canning-  Town ;  the 
Mansfield  House,  begun  by  Oxford  Congregationalists  in  Canning- 
Town,  and  Browning  Hall,  begun  by  Cambridge  Congregationalists 
in  Walworth ;  a  Wesleyau  settlement  in  Bermondsey ;  and  Mrs. 
Humphry  Ward's  University  Hall,  at  a  little  distance  from  the 
British  Museum.  Some  educated  young  Jews  have  recently  pro- 
posed taking  quarters  in  the  midst  of  their  brethren  of  Rag  Fair  and 
Petticoat  Lane.     And  no  man  can  see  where  the  end  will  be. 

The  novel  philanthropy  which  has  attracted  the  greatest  atten- 
tion is  that  of  the  People's  Palace,  which  is  the  result,  in  the  first 
instance,  of  the  turn  given  by  Mr.  Walter  Besant's  "  All  Sorts  and 
Conditions  of  Men  "  to  a  bequest  that  had  already  been  made  for 
establishing  an  institute  for  working  peojile  in  East  London.  The 
People's  Palace  is  essentially  an  institution.  At  Toynbee  Hall  they 
resent  the  term.  The  People's  Palace  is  now  not  much  different 
from  a  great  technical  school,  where  boys  and  girls  may  receive  in- 
struction in  nearly  all  lines  of  art  and  skill.  It  has  ample  facilities 
for  recreation — a  gymnasium  and  swimming-bath,  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  halls  in  London  for  concerts  and  other  entertainments,  a 
large  winter  garden,  and  a  well-supplied  library  and  reading-room. 
The  People's  Palace,  under  the  care  of  Sir  Edmund  Currie,  was  con- 
ducted so  that  it  seemed  to  be  filling  out  the  dream  with  which  it 
began.  But  too  much  was  attempted  at  once.  It  became  involved 
in  financial  difficulties,  and  necessity  constrained  its  managers  to 
seek  the  powerful  aid  of  the  Drapers'  Company,  one  of  the  old  City 
guilds  which  exercise  a  perfunctory  charity  as  a  tribute  for  being- 
permitted  to  continue  a  rather  luxurious  existence.  The  manage- 
ment of  the  Palace  is  now  directed  from  the  office  of  the  Drapers' 
Company,  and  shows  that  lack  of  appreciative  sense  which  one 


24 


THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 


might  expect  under  the  circumstances.  The  circulars  have  '  Dra- 
pers' Company's  Institute "  in  large  letters,  and  "  The  People's 
Palace  "  in  small. 

Yet  one  oug'ht  not  to  make  too  much  of  the  partial  failure  of  this 
noble  scheme.  The  People's  Palace,  as  it  is,  brings  a  g-reat  enlarge- 
ment to  life  in  the  East  End.  And  there  is  still  sufficient  reason  for 
believing  that  the  idea,  as  it  was  at  first  held,  is  a  practicable  one. 


The   People's  Palace. 

It  is  indeed  determined  upon  that  the  plan  shall  be  undertaken  in 
London  on  a  very  extensive  scale.  The  Reg-ent  Street  Polytechnic, 
through  the  generosity  and  devotion  of  Mr.  Quintin  Hogg,  has 
achieved  a  settled  success  at  the  points  where  the  People's  Palace 
has,  up  to  the  present,  failed.  And  there  is  now  in  hand  a  plan  by 
which  a  part  of  the  vast  accumiilated  resources  of  the  old  City 
parishes  is  to  be  g-iven  for  the  purpose  of  establishing*  a  polytechnic 
in  every  considerable  district  of  the  metropolis,  putting-  each  one, 
to  a  large  extent,  under  the  responsible  control  of  people  living  in 


DRAMATIC    ENTERTAINMENT    AT   THE    BORO'    OF    HACKNEY   WORKINGMEN'S   CLUB 


THE  SOCIAL  AWAKENING  IN  LONDON 


27 


the  district,  or  in  some  way  connected  with  its  interests.  It  is  not 
too  much  to  hope  that,  gradnally,  through  faihires  and  successes,  all 
the  more  g-loomy  regions  of  London  shall  be  lit  up  with  veritable 
Palaces  of  Delight. 


,/ 


yy 


The  Library  of  tne    People's   Palace,     (From  a  photograph.) 


The  university  settlements  and  the  polytechnics  in  their  work 
draw  deeply  upon  the  aesthetic  impulse  for  ways  of  cheering  and 
elevating  the  poor.  But  quite  apart  from  them  is  the  unique  move- 
ment which  begins  distinctly  from  the  artist's  point  of  view.  Kus- 
Idu  is  its  prophet.     It  has  two  quite  different,  though  not  mutually 


28  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

exclusive,  phases.  Ou  the  one  haud  is  the  efibrt,  which  has  a  strong- 
element  behind  it  in  the  artistic  circles  of  London,  toward  social 
reconstruction  as  a  necessity  if  the  mass  of  the  peoj)le  are  ever  to 
be  saved  from  the  degradation  that  comes  from  surroundings  of 
wretchedness.  Among  its  supporters  are  William  Morris,  revolu- 
tionary socialist ;  Walter  Crane,  moderate  socialist ;  and  Burne- 
Jones,  socialistic  radical.  On  the  other  hand  is  the  simjDler  and 
more  immediate  programme  for  "bringing  beauty  home  to  the 
people."  The  Kyrle  Societ}^  makes  this  its  special  object.  The 
members  of  the  Society  busy  themselves  with  adorning  working- 
men's  clubs,  girls'  homes,  and  mission  halls.  Some  beautiful  mu- 
ral paintings  have  recently  been  executed  in  such  places.  There  is 
a  musical  section  which  gives  concerts  and  oratorios  in  working- 
class  districts ;  a  branch  for  the  distribution  of  good  literature  ;  a 
branch  which  works  actively  for  securing  and  beautifying  public 
parks  and  open  spaces,  and  seeing  that  they  are  managed  for  the 
enjoyment  of  the  people.  The  Kyrle  Society  is  under  the  special 
direction  of  Miss  Octavia  Hill,  who  has  carried  on  such  a  courage- 
ous warfare  against  the  evils  of  London  poverty  for  almost  a  gener- 
ation. It  includes  in  its  membership  many  leading  artists  and 
patrons  of  art. 

By  far  the  most  stirring  social  developments  in  London,  during 
the  last  five  years,  have  been  in  connection  with  strikes  and  social- 
istic ag'itatiou  among  the  working-men.  There  is  an  intenseness 
and  reality  about  these  facts  there,  even  to  the  minds  of  people  in 
the  upper  classes,  which  can  be  but  dimly  understood  hj  those  not 
living  in  the  scene.  In  London,  more  than  in  any  other  great  city 
in  the  world  at  the  present  moment,  the  near  interests  of  the  major- 
ity of  the  people  are  slowly  rising  into  a  solitary  prominence.  And 
the  main  tide  of  the  influence  toward  democracy  comes  not  hy  the 
way  of  charity  of  any  kind,  but  directly  out  of  the  working  class  it- 
self. Close  alongside  the  working-class  movement,  and  often  min- 
gling with  it,  is  the  increasing  tendency  among  men  and  women,  not 
of  the  labor  ranks,  who,  with  different  social  creeds,  are  committing 


THE  SOCIAL  AWAKENING  IN  LONDON 


29 


themselves  definitely  to  the  cause  of  the  fourth  estate  in  its  demaud 
for  justice.  Many  of  these  persons  have  themselves  felt  the  bitter- 
ness of  poverty ;  others  have  been  moved  by  a  more  distant  sym- 
pathy.    But  it  is  certain  that  the  radical  social  attitude  of  a  larg-© 


Charles  Booth,   Author  of   "Labor  and   Life  of  the   People." 
(From  a  photograph  by  Elliott  &  Fry,  London  ) 


bodj^  of  educated  men  aud  Avomen  in  London  comes  not  merely 
from  what  others  have  suffered.  They  belong-  to  wliat  is  called  the 
"  literary  i)roletariat."  With  the  ever  greater  crowding  of  the  pro- 
fessions in  the  metropolis,  especially  as  women  are  increasingly 
entering  into  the  competition  of  one  form  or  another  of  intellectual 


30  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

work,  there  is  a  constantly  growing  number  of  persons  of  trained 
mind  and  delicate  sensibilities  who  find  themselves  hard  pressed  in 
the  strugg-le.  Even  after  success  in  it,  the  keen  remembrance  of  its 
pangs  lingers.  Events  have  already  shown  in  Loudon,  and  are 
bound  to  show  still  more  clearly,  the  i^rofound  sig-nificance  of  this 
personal  sense  of  social  wrong  which  is  creeping  in  among  those 
who  have  the  power  that  knowledge,  skill,  and  intluence  give  them 
to  attack  what  they  find  to  be  false  in  social  conditions. 

London  has  been  behindhand  in  the  matter  of  movements  of  im- 
portance among  the  artisans.  It  is  among  the  strong,  self-reliant 
North-country  men  that  the  old  trade-unions  and  the  co-o^serative 
stores  have  made  their  great  attainments.  The  working-men  of 
London  are  of  a  less  sturdy  race,  though  that  is  in  part  because  the 
industries  of  the  metropolis  call  for  skilled  labor  in  a  smaller  pro- 
portion than  do  those  of  the  northern  towns.  Li  general,  the 
northern  towns  have  the  factories ;  London,  the  warehouses  and 
the  docks. 

Li  1886,  under  the  lead  of  the  Socialists,  who  were  then  more 
violent  and  less  powerful  than  they  now  are,  the  agitations  of  the 
unemployed  began.  The  unemployed  represent  the  two  or  three 
most  helpless  grades  of  poverty.  Some  of  them  belong  to  the  idle 
and  A'icious,  but  a  large  proportion  of  them  are  willing  to  work  ac- 
cording to  their  power.  At  any  rate,  it  appeared  clearly  enough 
that  they  represent  a  serious  problem.  Trafalgar  Square,  at  one  of 
the  main  centres  of  traffic,  was  made  a  forum  for  the  expression  of 
their  demand  for  the  means  of  subsistence.  These  meetings  took 
so  threatening  a  turn  that  several  efi'orts  were  made  by  the  police 
to  disperse  them.  They  continued  intermittently  during  three 
years.  In  addition  to  the  Trafalgar  Square  demonstrations,  there 
were  parades  to  district  poor-houses ;  church  parades  in  which 
Lazarus  came  to  the  portal  that  Dives,  going  in  to  worshiji,  might 
see  him ;  and  even  some  riotous  marches  in  which  the  windows  of 
clubs  in  Pall  Mall  and  of  shops  in  Piccadilly  were  made  havoc  of 
By  the  summer  of  1889  these  agitations  had  died  away.     But  the 


THE  SOCIAL  AWAKENING  IN  LONDON 


31 


The   Queen's   Hall   in  the   People's  Palace.     (Fronn  a  photograph  ) 

temporary  lull  merely  g-ave  time  for  shifting  the  scene  of  action  to 
the  principal  seat  of  the  difficulty  at  the  docks. 

The  long-  miles  of  docks  down  along  the  north  bank  of  the  river, 
beginning  at  the  Tower,  which  are  so  great  a  source  of  England's 
wealth,  contribute  to  East  London  life  little  more  than  a  grudging 
partial  support  to  the  vast  body  of  casuals  and  hangers-on  whom 
they  bring  there.  They  are  the  last  miserable  hope  of  the  unfortu- 
nate and  shiftless  of  every  calling.  A  certain  number  of  men  are 
regularly  employed.  After  that,  however,  it  is  open  to  every  man 
to  come  with  the  rest  in  the  morning,  and  join  with  them  at  the 
dock-gates  in  fighting  like  wild  beasts  to  see  which  ones  of  the  num- 
ber shall  get  in  to  secure  a  day's  work — every  man's  hand  against 
his  brother,   with  bread  and  starvation  for  a  wager.     The  dock- 


32  TITE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

OAvuers  had  been  taking-  advantage  of  this  sitnation  b}'-  paying-  a 
miserable  i^ittance  b}^  the  honr,  sometimes  even  dismissing  men  in 
the  middle  of  the  day,  so  as  to  get  the  full  use  of  men's  fresh  force. 
Things  became  so  unendurable  that  some  of  the  stronger  spirits 
among  the  dockers  decided  to  ask  John  Burns,  who  is  a  skilled  me- 
chanic, to  come  and  see  if  there  was  not  some  help  for  them.  Burns 
had  just  been  leading  a  successful  strike  of  gas-workers  ;  and,  before 
that,  had  been  one  of  the  speakers  at  Trafalgar  Square.  In  the  face 
of  seeming  impossibility,  the  men  being  wholly  undiscij)lined  and 
completely  dependent  upon  their  employment  for  the  bare  necessa- 
ries of  life,  John  Burns  determined  to  call  out  the  thousands  of 
dock-workers  of  London.  It  was  an  act  of  surpassing  courage.  It 
was  not  mere  reckless  daring.  He  saw  that  the  market  was  rising, 
so  that  the  dock-owners  could  with  difficulty  hold  out  against  the 
demands  of  commerce.  He  knew  from  recent  strikes,  especially 
from  one  in  which  the  woes  of  the  match-girls  had  been  brought  to 
light,  that  public  sentiment  was  turning  strongly  toward  the  sup- 
port of  down-trodden  toilers.  And  he  believed  that  the  working- 
men  of  England  would  uphold  him  with  their  hard-earned  shil- 
lings. These  things  all  acted  in  his  favor.  Large  quantities  of  re- 
lief-supplies were  sent  in  by  the  people  of  London  every  day. 
More  than  a  quarter  of  a  million  dollars  were  contributed  to  sup- 
port the  strike.  English  trade-unions  gave  ninety  thousand,  and 
twice  that  sum  came  by  telegraph  from  Australia.  The  rest  of  the 
work  was  accomplished  through  Burns's  marvellous  power  to  hold 
great  masses  of  men  with  his  voice — there  were  over  one  hundred 
thousand  men  on  strike  at  once — and  through  the  statesmanlike 
inner  direction  of  the  strike  by  his  friend  and  fellow-craftsman,  Tom 
Mann.  After  six  weeks  of  daily  speaking,  systematic  distril^ution 
of  food  and  strike-pay,  proposing  and  rejecting  of  overtures,  and 
withal  no  little  apprehension  on  the  part  of  good  citizens  of  some 
violent  disturbance — the  great  strike  was  won,  and  a  beginning 
made  of  the  organization  of  the  great  army  of  the  unskilled,  which 
lias  grown  steadily  from  that  time   to   this.     In   less  than  three 


JOHN    BURNS    ADDRESSING    THE    DOCKERS   ON    TOWER    HILL. 


THE  SOCIAL  AWAKENING  IN  LONDON  35 

years  the  Dockers'  Union,  and  two  other  unions  of  the  unskiHod, 
have  come  to  include  upward  of  three  hundred  thousand  men  in 
tlie  United  Kingdom.  Under  the  general  name  of  the  New  Trade- 
Unionism,  with  Burns  and  Mann  for  leaders,  they  have  won  con- 
tinual victories,  extended  aid  to  weaker  unions,  pushed  their  policy 
to  the  front  in  the  Trade-Union  Congress,  and  gained  a  political 
power  which  will  give  them  at  least  John  Burns  for  a  representa- 
tive in  the  next  House  of  Commons.  If  John  Burns  and  Tom 
Mann  should  both  be  elected  Members  of  Parliament,  there  would 
be  among  the  nation's  legislators  no  men  of  truer  hearts  and  more 
temperate  lives,  and  few  of  greater  native  ability  than  these  heroes 
of  the  masses. 

Organized  Socialism,  out  of  which  the  movement  of  the  laborers 
sprang,  has,  as  a  result  of  this  success  through  j)eaceful  methods, 
become  steadily  more  moderate.  One  hears,  even  in  Hyde  Park, 
where,  on  Sunday  afternoon,  advocates  of  every  cause  hold  noisy 
rivalry,  less  of  fiery  harangue  and  more  about  uniting  for  the  sake 
of  keeping  up  wages  and  of  putting  representatives  into  the  Counter 
Council  and  into  Parliament.  AYilliam  Morris's  Socialist  League^ 
which  still  represents  the  j)oet's  impatience  of  all  mechanical  meth- 
ods, and  clings  to  his  fantastic  revolutionary  hope,  has  been  growing- 
weaker  and  weaker,  until  it  has  now  dwindled  almost  down  to  the 
single  group  which  has  a  meeting  in  a  hall  back  of  Morris's  house,  in 
Hammersmith,  on  Sunday  evening,  and  sups  in  common  afterward. 

The  rising  tide  of  Socialism  in  London,  so  far  as  it  goes  in  the 
channels  of  organization,  lies  in  the  progress  of  the  Fabian  Society. 
This  unique  association  of  Socialists  is  now  in  the  seventh  year  of 
its  existence.  It  has  about  two  hundred  members,  most  of  whom 
are  cultured  people.  Mr.  Grant  Allen,  a  year  or  two  ago,  deserted 
the  banner  of  Mr.  Spencer,  and  became  a  Fabian.  Mr.  Walter  Crane 
is  on  the  list  of  lecturers.  The  Bev.  Stopford  Brooke  gives  his  ad- 
hesion, and  occasionally  takes  up  his  strong  poetic  prophecy  at 
Bedford  Chapel,  with  denunciation  of  tlie  present  state  of  things,, 
and  aspiration  toward  all  that  can  lead  to  a  better. 


36 


THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 


Pursuing-  tlie  pol- 
icy of  masterly  de- 
lay which  the  old 
Roman  advocated, 
the  Fabian  Society 
has  exerted  a  marked 
influence  in  London 
throug-h  its  fort- 
nig-htly  meetings,  its 
tracts,  and  the  vol- 
ume of  essays  by  its 
leading-  members. 
These  essays,  which 
have  had  a  very  large 
sale,  were  first  given 
as  lectures  at  the  So- 
ciety's meetings,  and 
may  be  regarded  as 
the  best  published 
exposition  of  Social- 
ism from  the  point 
of  view  of  enlight- 
ened Socialists.  The  Society  is  gradually  coming  to  be  a  political 
power  in  the  metropolis.  This  is  i^artly  because  some  of  its  lead- 
ers have  become  acknowledged  specialists  as  to  questions  of  ad- 
vanced municipal  administration  ;  but  it  is  more  largely  because  of 
a  series  of  campaigns  in  the  working-men's  clubs.  There  are  two 
hundred  of  these  in  London,  on  a  wholly  independent  basis.  Out- 
side of  the  entertainments  which  are  provided,  the  members  of  the 
clubs  seem  to  be  most  attracted  by  political  and  industrial  discus- 
sion. At  least  once  a  week  in  all  the  larger  clubs  some  person  is 
present  to  lecture.  The  men  smoke  their  pipes,  drink  beer  out  of 
huge  pewter  mugs,  and  listen.  The  Fabian  Society  has  detailed  a 
group  of  its  ablest  speakers  for  this  special  service,  and  the  result 


John    Burns. 

(From  a  photograph  by  the  London  Stereoscopic  Company.) 


THE  SOCIAL  AWAKENING  IN  LONDON 


37 


has  beeu,  tlii-ong-h  inlluences  direct  and  indirect,  tliat  the  workiug- 
nieu  of  London — who  but  a  feAv  years  ago  all  supported  Mr.  Brad- 
laugh  and  his  unsatisfying  political  radicalism— are  now  well-nigh 
unanimous  in  favor  of  the  programme  of  immediate  social  legis- 
lation which  the  Fabian  Society  is  proposing. 

The  variety  of  social  work  in  London  is,  it  is  true,  almost  end- 
less, and  each  department  has  but  little  relation  with  the  others ; 
yet  it  would  be  far  from  the  truth  to  represent  the  general  social 
situation  as  being  a  mere  confused  mass  of  exj)edients,  of  turnings 
hither  and  thither.  In  fact  every  year  shows  in  metropolitan  life  a 
marked  increase  in  the  aggregate  result  of  philanthropic  and  indus- 
trial movements.  It  is  certainly  a  new  and  remarkable  exhibition 
of  the  English  power  of  achievement  that,  notwithstanding  the 
vastness  of  the  problem,  and  its  intangibleness,  and  the  plausible 
claims  of  superficial  reform,  the  steady  impulse  from  the  begiiming, 
on  nearly  every  side,  should  have  been  toward  attacking  the  prob- 
lem at  its  centre,  and  toward  devis- 
ing broader  plans  of  remedy  as  rap- 
idly as  the  working  out  of  any  act- 
ual results  could  suggest  them. 

The  governing  bodies  of  London 
are  showing  themselves  ready  to 
undertake  large  social  schemes 
based  upon  previous  approved  ex- 
periments. The  County  Council, 
by  its  fair  way  of  treating  men 
working  under  it,  has  established 
a  "  moral  minimum  "  for  wages,  and 
a  "  moral  maximum  "  for  hours.  It 
has  greatly  developed  the  "  lungs  " 
of  London — the  parks,  open  spaces, 
and  playing  fields.     In  the  Avay  of 

new  kinds  of  municipal  administration  the  Council  lias  in  charge 
a  very  large  building  enterprise  in  Bethnal  Green,  for  model  tens- 


Tom   Mann, 


38  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

ment-houses  wliich  shall  accommodate  several  thousands  of  peo- 
ple ;  and  it  has  recently  voted  to  assume  control  of  one  of  the  lead- 
ing- tramway  lines.  The  School  Board  requires  all  of  its  contract- 
ors to  comply  with  trade-union  conditions  as  to  wages  and  the 
length  of  the  working-  day,  and  provides  dinners  for  ill-fed  children 
at  the  schools. 

The  extensive  investments  of  private  capital,  for  the  sake  of  im- 
proving- the  housing  of  the  Avorking-j)eople,  have  resulted  in  com- 
l^letely  wiping-  out  many  unsanitary  and  criminal  quarters.  In  near- 
ly every  part  of  London  one  now  sees  great  model  tenement-houses, 
constructed  after  the  most  recent  patterns,  and  sometimes  with 
much  architectural  beauty.  The  buildings  give  a  return  of  four  or 
live  per  cent,  on  the  capital.  The  coffee-houses  of  London,  besides 
being  one  of  the  best  of  temperance  measures,  have  proved  advan- 
tag-eous  business  investments.  Even  the  newest  form  of  people's 
cafe,  the  Tee-to-tums,  are  conducted  so  that  expenses  are  covered. 
These  unique  institutions  are  the  creation  of  Mr.  P.  R.  Buchanan. 
They  combine  the  features  of  a  coffee-house,  supplying-  a  variety  of 
good  food  and  non-alcoholic  drinks,  with  those  of  a  club,  having 
numerous  facilities  for  improvement  and  recreation.  The  patrons 
of  each  Tee-to-tum  are  org-anized  by  skilled  social  workers,  who 
direct  their  amusements.  Mr.  Buchanan  well  illustrates  the  new 
type  of  man  now  coming  forward  in  England,  who,  with  intelli- 
g-ence,  means,  and  energy,  shall  devote  himself  and  his  possessions 
to  working  out  plans  for  widening  the  circuit  of  life  for  the  toiling- 
majority  of  his  countrymen.  Of  this  same  fine  public  spirit  is  Mr. 
Charles  Booth,  a  wealthy  merchant,  who  at  the  time  when  feeling- 
was  highest  went  alone  to  the  East  End  and  took  lodgings  for  the 
sake  of  making  a  careful  study  of  the  whole  situation.  Enlisting 
the  aid  of  some  able  young  students  of  economics,  and  engaging  a 
regular  staff  of  clerks,  he  began  his  great  work,  in  Avhich  he  is  put- 
ting together  a  most  painstaking,  unbiassed,  and  lucid  account  of 
the  labor  and  life  of  the  people  of  London.  Six  volumes,  of  which 
Mr.  Booth,  Avith  undue  modesty,  stands  merely  as  the  editor,  have 


THE  ,"^001 A  L   AWAKENING   IN  LONDON 


39 


already  appeared,  g'iviiig-  a  close  description  of  the  homes  of  the 
poor  in  different  degrees  of  poverty,  and  of  the  condition  of  work 
at  the  different  trades.  With  these  volumes  are  colored  maps  in- 
dicating- the  character  as  to  poverty  and  wealth  of  every  street  in 
London.  The  remainder  of  the  work  will  treat  of  all  the  trade- 
unions  and  organizations  for  self-help  among  working  people,  and 


40  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT   CITIES 

of  the  efforts  toward  social  improvement  in  the  Avay  of  charity  and 
])]iilanthropy. 

With  the  publication  of  these  volnmes  the  social  problem  of 
London  beg-ius  to  be  understood  and  realized  in  its  leng-th  and 
breadth.  "  The  Bitter  Cry,"  the  ag-itations  of  the  unemployed,  and 
the  great  strike,  served  to  arouse  the  sense  of  social  responsibility. 
The  efforts  of  many  sorts  and  conditions  of  people,  with  diverse 
points  of  view  and  concerned  about  different  social  evils,  have  grad- 
ually been  showing*  the  methods  for  success  under  specific  con- 
ditions. And  now  comes  this  quiet,  patient  man,  having-  worked 
along-  throug-h  the  years  of  turmoil  and  novelty,  trusting-  implicitly 
to  the  truth  which  the  facts  mig-ht  express,  and  presents  the  whole 
of  the  metropolis  as  an  intelligible  object  of  social  study,  and 
makes  it  easy  to  see  how  in  each  neighborhood,  according-  to  its 
needs,  there  may  be  free  course  for  whatever  agencies  have  been 
found  to  be  of  value  in  any  other. 

The  first  stage  of  the  social  awakening  is  over — that  of  scattered 
experiments  and  of  general  investigation.  The  next,  and  even  more 
significant  stage,  the  stage  of  expansion,  is  already  entered  iipon. 
There  is  sufficient  reason  to  expect  that  the  County  Council  will 
not  stop  in  its  undertaking-  of  social  administration  in  the  interest 
of  the  people,  until  it  has  assumed  the  complete  ownership  and 
direction  of  the  gas  and  water  supply  and  of  the  tramway  lines. 
The  replacing  of  large  insanitary  tracts  of  buildings  with  model 
tenement-houses  will  have  to  be  continued  in  several  other  places 
after  the  work  in  Bethnal  Green  is  completed.  There  is  coming  to 
be  a  marked  increase  of  efficiency  in  the  local  parish  boards,  which 
are  charged  with  executing  the  laws  for  sanitation  and  poor-relief. 
The  co-ordination  of  all  more  obvious  charities,  and  their  compre- 
hensive working  in  each  district,  will  go  on  until  there  shall  be  as 
well  organized  checks  against  i^auperism  as  there  now  are  against 
ci'ime. 

"With  the  field  in  general  thus  laid  (nit,  there  is  already  full 
promise  that  each  considerable  section  of  the  metropolis  will  have  at 


THE  ISOCIAL  AWAKENING  IN  LONDON 


41 


least  one  public  institution  for  the  recreation  and  higher  education 
of  the  people.  The  churches  and  the  university  settlements  may  be 
looked  to  for  the  g-radual  development  of  all  less  formal  and  more 
personal  influences  toward  making  life  healthier,  liapi)ier,  nobler. 
Meanwhile  the  long-,  slow  strug-g-le  of  the  working-men,  rising  into 
dramatic  interest  in  its  titful  outbursts,  is  destined  to  bring  them 
to  a  position  of  independence,  and  in  so  strong  and  pure  a  democ- 
racy as  the  County  of  London,  ultimately,  as  they  become  worthy 
of  power,  into  a  position  of  control. 


LIFE  IN  NEW  YOEK  TENEMENT-HOUSES  AS  SEEN 
BY  A  CITY  MISSIONARY 

By  WILLIAM   T.   ELSING, 

MINISTER  OP  THE  DE  WITT  MEMORIAL  NON-SECTARIAN  CHURCH  IX  RIVINGTON  STREET,   NEW  YORK 

TiiE  East  Side—Tenement  Life— Contrasts  in  the  Tenements — Diut  and 
Cleanliness— Classes  op  Homes  in  the  Tenements — Rents— Changes  in 
THE  Tenement  Population — Statistics  of  a  Typical  Block — Nationali- 
ties—Influences op  the  Public  Schools — The  Fresh-atr  Excursions — 
The  College  Settlements— Stories  of  the  Poor — The  Charity  Organi- 
zations— The  Church — Suggestions  toward  Improving  "Darkest  New 
York." 

FOR  nearly  nine  years  I  have  spent  much  of  my  time  in  the 
homes  of  the  working  people,  on  the  East  Side,  in  the  lower 
part  of  New  York  City.  I  have  been  with  the  people  in  their 
days  of  joy  and  hours  of  sorrow.  I  have  been  present  at  their 
marriage,  baptismal,  and  funeral  services.  I  have  visited  the  sick 
and  dying  in  cold,  dark  cellars  in  midwinter,  and  sat  by  the  bed- 
side of  sufferers  in  midsummer  in  the  Ioav  attic  room,  where  the 
heat  was  so  intense  and  the  perspiration  flowed  so  abundantly  that 
it  reminded  me  of  a  Turkish  bath.  I  have  been  a  frequent  guest 
in  the  homes  of  the  humble.  I  have  become  the  confidant  of  many 
in  days  of  trouble  and  anxiety. 

I  shall  in  this  paper  tell  simply  what  I  have  heard,  seen,  and 
know.  I  shall  endeavor  to  avoid  giving  a  one-sided  statement.  I 
have  noticed  that  nearly  all  those  who  Avork  among  the  poor  of  our 
great  cities  fall  into  the  natural  habit  of  drawing  too  dark  a  picture 
of  the  real  state  of  things.     The  outside  world  has  always  been 


LIFE  IN  NEW  YORK   TENEMENT-HOUSES  4^ 

more  inclined  to  listen  to  weird,  startling-,  and  thrilling-  statements 
than  to  the  more  ordinary'  and  commonplace  facts.  If  I  were  to 
crowd  into  the  space  of  one  short  chapter  all  the  remarkable 
things  Avliich  I  have  heard  and  seen  during-  the  past  nine  years,  I 
might  give  an  absolutely  truthful  account  and  produce  a  sensation, 
and  yet,  after  all,  I  should  give  a  most  misleading-  idea  of  the  actual 
condition  of  the  homes  and  the  people  with  whom  I  have  been  so 
intimately  associated.  We  must  not  crowd  all  the  sad  and  gloomy 
experiences  of  a  lifetime  into  a  history  which  can  be  read  in 
an  hour. 

What  I  have  said  applies  especially  to  the  homes  of  the  people 
in  the  tenement-houses.  An  ordinary  tenement-house  contains  five 
stories  and  a  basement,  four  families  usually  occupjdng  a  floor. 
The  halls  in  nearly  all  the  houses  are  more  or  less  dark,  even  during 
the  brightest  part  of  the  day.  In  the  winter,  just  before  the  g-as  is 
lighted,  dungeon  darkness  reigns.  When  groping  my  way  in  the 
passages  I  usually  imitate  the  steam  craft  in  a  thick  fog  and  give 
a  danger-signal  when  I  hear  someone  else  approaching  ;  but  even 
when  all  is  silent  I  proceed  with  caution,  for  more  than  once  I  have 
stumbled  against  a  baby  who  was  quietly  sitting  in  the  dark  hall  or 
on  the  stairs.  In  the  old-style  halls  there  is  no  way  of  getting  light 
and  air,  except  from  the  skylight  in  the  roof,  or  from  the  glass 
transoms  in  the  doors  of  the  apartments.  In  the  newer  houses  a 
scanty  supply  of  air  comes  directly  from  the  air-shafts  at  the  side  of 
the  hall.  The  new  houses  are  not  much  better  lighted  than  the  old 
ones.  The  air-shafts  are  too  narrow  to  convey  much  light  to  the 
lower  floors.  In  the  older  houses  the  sink  is  frequently  found  in 
the  hall,  Avhere  the  four  tenants  living-  on  the  same  floor  get  their 
water.  These  sinks  in  the  dark  halls  are  a  source  of  great  incon- 
venience. A  person  is  liable  to  stumble  against  them,  and  they  are 
frequently  filthy  and  a  menace  to  healtli.  In  the  new  tenements 
the  sink  is  never  placed  in  the  hall.  In  addition  to  the  owner  and 
agent,  in  connection  with  every  larg-e  tenement-house,  there  is  a 
housekeeper.      The  housekeepers  are  usually   strong   and   thrifty 


u 


THE  POOR  IJV  GEE  AT  CITIES 


liousewives  "svlio  take  care  of  tlie  halls  and  stairs,  liglit  tlie  gas, 
sweep  the  sidewalks,  and  show  the  rooms  to  new  applicants,  and 
frequently  receive  the  rent  until  the  ag-ent  or  landlord  calls  for  it. 
Sometimes  the  housekeeper  deals  directly  with  the  landlord,  who 


.•,■,3, 


The  Home  of  a  Thousand   People. 

comes  once  or  twice  a  month  to  look  at  his  property  and  collect  the 
rent.  The  housekeeper  is  frequently  a  widow,  who  g-ets  free  rent  in 
exchange  for  her  work,  and  by  means  of  sewing-  or  washing-  is  able 
to  provide  food  and  clothing-  for  her  children.  It  pays  the  land- 
lord to  have  one  tenant  rent  free  in  order  to  have  a  clean  house.     If 


LIFE  IN  NEW  YORK  TENEMENT-HOUSES  45 

the  Louse  is  small  the  housekeeper  usually  receives  her  rent  at 
a  reduced  rate  in  exchange  for  her  services.  There  is  never  any 
difficulty  in  getting-  a  good  housekeeper.  The  landlord  or  agent  sees 
to  it  that  the  housekeeper  does  her  duty  and  the  housekeeper 
"watches  the  tenants.  If  they  soil  tlie  stairs  and  halls,  she  reminds 
them  of  the  fact  in  no  uncertain  way.  If  a  careless  tenant  gives 
unnecessary  labor  to  the  housekeeper  that  tenant  will  soon  be  com- 
pelled to  seek  other  quarters.  The  result  is  that  the  stairs  and  halls 
in  all  the  large  tenement-houses  are  remarkably  clean.  I  have 
visited  a  great  number  of  them,  and  can  confidently  say  that  I  have 
never  seen  the  halls  of  a  large  tenement-house  in  as  neglected  and 
dirty  a  condition  as  the  corridors  of  the  New  York  Post-Office. 
But  the  moment  you  enter  the  rooms  of  the  occupants  you  often 
step  from  cleanliness  into  filth.  The  influence  of  the  housekeeper 
and  the  sight  of  the  clean  halls  and  stairs  is  to  some  the  first  lesson 
in  cleanliness,  and  is  not  without  its  beneficial  effects.  There  is 
a  slow  but  constant  improvement  in  this  direction,  and  every  year 
strangers  from  many  lands  are  getting  gradually  acquainted  with 
the  use,  value,  and  virtue  of  clean  water. 

The  housekeeper  is  frequently  wanting  in  the  older  and  smaller 
houses,  which  were  formerly  occupied  by  one  family,  but  now  serve 
as  homes  for  three  or  four.  Every  tenant  is  here  expected  to  per- 
form a  portion  of  the  housekeeper's  duty  without  remuneration. 
These  houses  are  sometimes  extremely  dirty,  and  the  death-rate  is 
higher  than  in  the  larger  and  better  kept  tenements. 

Let  us  leave  the  hall  and  enter  some  of  the  homes  in  the  larger 
houses.  To  many  persons,  living  in  a  tenement-house  is  synony- 
mous with  living  in  the  slums,  yet  nothing  is  further  from  the 
truth.  It  would  be  an  easy  matter  for  me  to  take  a  stranger  into  a 
dozen  or  more  homes  so  poor,  dirty,  and  wretched  that  he  Avould 
not  forget  the  sight  for  days,  and  he  would  be  thoroughly  con- 
vinced that  a  home  cannot  exist  in  a  tenement-house  ;  but  I  could 
take  that  same  person  to  an  equal  number  of  homes  in  the  same 
section  of  the  city,  and  sometimes  in  the  same  house,  which  Avould 


46 


THE  POOR  IN  GEE  AT  CITIES 


The  Bright  Side  of  Life  in  a  Tenement-house. 


turu  liim  into  a  joyful   optimist,  and  forever  satisfy  him  that  the 
state  of  thing's  is  not  l)y  any  means  as  bad  as  it  mig"ht  be.     To  the 


LIFE  IN  NEW  YORK  TKNEMENT-H0U8ES 


47 


■■■•■  .-  ■     **■- ,/-    -"_-■"■ 


••'■1 


^•tf     ■^' 


.■U'w         •'      -, 


m 


The   Dark   Side — under  the   Same   Roof. 


casual  observer  the  tenement-houses  in  many  ])ortions  of  New  York 
present  a  remarkable  degree  of  uniformity.     The  great  brick  build- 


4S  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

ing's  with  their  net-work  of  iron  fire-escapes  in  front,  their  nu- 
merous clothes-lines  running  from  every  window  in  the  rear,  the 
well-worn  stairs,  the  dark  halls,  the  numerous  odors,  pleasant  and 
otherwise,  coming  from  a  score  of  different  kitchens  presided  over 
by  housewives  of  various  nationalities — these  are  all  similar  ;  but 
from  the  moment  you  enter  the  rooms  you  will  find  every  variety 
of  homes,  many  of  them  poor,  neg-lected,  wretched,  and  dirty ; 
others  clean,  thrifty,  and  attractive  ;  indeed,  as  great  a  variety 
as  exists  in  the  interior  of  homes  in  an  ordinary  town.  There 
are  homes  where  the  floor  is  bare  and  dirty,  the  furniture  broken 
and  scanty,  the  table  g-reasy,  the  bedlineu  yellow,  the  air  foul  and 
heavy,  the  children  pale,  frowsy,  and  sticky,  so  that  you  squirm 
wdieu  the  baby  wants  to  kiss  you ;  but  there  is  also  another  and 
brighter  side.  There  are  at  the  same  time  thousands  of  cheerful, 
happy  homes  in  the  tenement-houses.  The  floor  is  frequently  as 
clean  and  white  as  soap,  water,  and  German  muscle  is  able  to  make 
it.  The  tablecloth  and  bedlinen,  althougfli  of  coarse  material,  are 
snow^y  white.  The  stove  has  the  brightness  of  a  mirror,  the  cheap 
lace-curtains  are  the  perfection  of  cleanliness,  and  the  simple  furni- 
ture shines  with  a  recent  polishing.  There  is  nothing  offensive 
about  the  well-washed  faces  of  the  children.  A  few  favorite  flowers 
are  growing-  on  the  window-sill.  The  room  contains  a  book-shelf 
with  a  few  i^opular  volumes.  A  bird-cag-e  hang's  from  the  ceiling  ; 
the  little  song-ster  seems  to  feel  that  his  music  is  appreciated  in  this 
tenement-kitchen,  and  pours  forth  more  rich  and  tender  notes  than 
are  ever  heard  in  the  silent  chambers  of  the  wealth5^  In  such 
homes  the  oft-recurring-  motto,  "  God  Bless  Our  Home,"  is  not  an 
idle  mockery. 

A  large  number  of  tenement-houses  in  the  lower  portion  of  New 
York  are  only  a  little  below  the  common  up-town  flat.  It  is  often 
difficult  to  tell  where  the  flat  leaves  off  and  the  tenement  begins. 
You  get  about  as  little  air  and  sunshine  in  the  one  as  in  the  other. 
The  main  diflerence  lies  in  the  number  of  rooms  and  the  location. 
If  some  down-town  tenement-houses  stood  ui>-town  they  would  be 


LIFE  IN  NEW   YORK   TENEMENT-HOUSES 


49 


called  flats.  The  word  teiiement  is  becoming-  unpopular  down-town, 
and  many  landlords  have  dubbed  their  great  caravansaries  by  the 
more  aristocratic  name  of  "  flat,"  and  the  term  "  rooms  "  has  been 
changed  to  "apartments." 

There  are  three  distinct  classes  of  homes  in  the  tenement-houses  ; 
the  cheapest  and 
humblest  of  these  is 
the  attic  home,  which 
usually  consists  of 
one  or  two  rooms, 
and  is  found  onl}^ 
dowai-town.  These 
are  g^enerally  occu- 
pied by  old  persons. 
Occasionally  three 
or  four  attic  rooms 
are  connected  and 
rented  to  a  family, 
but  as  small  single 
rooms  are  sought 
after  by  lonely  old 
people,  the  landlord 
often  rents  them  sep- 
arately. An  old  lady 
who  has  to  earn  her 
bread  with  the  nee- 
<lle  finds  the  attic  at 
once  the  cheapest  and  best  place  for  her  needs.  The  rent  of  one  or 
two  unfurnished  attic  rooms  rang-es  from  $3  to  $5  per  montli. 

A  large  number  of  very  poin-  people  live  in  three  rooms — a 
kitchen  and  two  dark  bedrooms.  Where  the  family  is  larg-e  the 
kitchen  lounge  is  opened  and  converted  into  a  double  bed  at  night. 
The  rent  for  three  rooms  is  generally  from  $8  to  $12  per  month. 

The  vast  majority  of  respectable  working  people  live  in  four 


Pig  Alley. 


50  THE  POOR  TN  GREAT  CITIES 

rooms — a  kitchen,  Iavo  dark  bedrooms,  and  a  parlor.  These  parlors 
are  generally  provided  with  a  bed-lounge,  and  are  used  as  sleeping- 
rooms  at  night.  The  best  room  is  always  carpeted  and  often 
provided  with  upholstered  chairs.  The  walls  are  generally  dec- 
orated with  family  photographs  and  inexpensive  pictures,  and  in 
some  of  them  I  have  found  a  piano.  These  parlors  compare  very 
favorably  with  the  best  room  in  the  house  of  the  average  farmer. 
The  rent  for  four  rooms  is  from  $12  to  $16  per  month. 

The  rent  is  an  ever-present  and  unceasing  source  of  anxiety  to 
a  great  many  poor  people.  The  family  is  sometimes  obliged  to  go 
half  clothed  and  live  on  the  cheapest  and  coarsest  food  in  order  to 
provide  the  rent  money.  The  monthly  rent  is  a  veritable  sword  of 
Damocles.  To  a  poor  woman  who  dreads  the  coming  of  the  land- 
lord, the  most  enticing  and  attractive  description  of  heaven  which 
I  have  been  able  to  give  is  a  place  where  they  pay  no  rent.  The 
landlords  are  of  necessity  compelled  to  be  peremptory  and  some- 
times arbitrary  in  their  demands.  If  a  landlord  were  even  a  little 
too  lenient  his  tenement  property  would  certainly  prove  a  losing 
investment.  The  apparently  unreasonable  harshness  of  many  land- 
lords is  often  justifiable,  and  the  only  means  of  securing  them 
against  loss.  Generally  where  a  good  tenant  is  unable  to  paj^  the 
rent  on  account  of  sickness  or  lack  of  work  the  landlord  is  willing 
to  extend  the  time  a  few  weeks.  I  frequently  find  families  who  are 
two  or  three  months  in  arrears.  In  the  majority  of  cases  where 
dispossess  papers  are  served,  the  landlord  does  not  know  his  tenant 
sufticiently  Avell  to  trust  him,  or  the  tenant  is  unworthy  of  trust. 
Yery  few  of  those  who  are  evicted  are  compelled  to  take  to  the  street. 
In  most  cases  sufficient  money  is  collected  from  friends,  neighbors, 
and  charitable  people  to  procure  another  place  of  shelter.  Oc- 
casionally, however,  all  the  worldly  possessions  of  an  unfortunate 
tenant  are  placed  on  the  street.  It  is  a  pathetic  sight  to  see  a 
small  heap  of  poor  household  stuff  standing  on  the  sidewalk  guarded 
by  the  children,  while  the  distressed  mother  is  frantically  rushing 
from  one  charitable  organization  to  another  in  search  of  help. 


.-:.:._-- '    o<|V^^<^-^^ 


A    NEW    TENEMENT    OF    THE    BETTER    SORT. 
One  of  many   recently  erected   by  private   enterprise. 


LIFE  IN  NEW   YORK  TENEMENT-HOUSES  53 

A  poor  German  woman  came  to  me  on  one  occasion  and  informed 
me  that  her  fnrnitnre  was  standing- on  the  sidewalk,  and  she  knew  not 
what  wouki  become  of  her.  She  had  with  her  a  beautiful  little  girl. 
The  child  cried  continually,  but  the  motiier's  distress  was  too  great 
for  tears.  She  begged  me  in  God's  name  to  help  her.  I  gave  her 
but  little  encouragement,  and  dismissed  her  with  a  few  kind  words. 
She  left  without  heaping  abuse  on  me  or  cursing  the  church  for  its 
neglect  of  the  poor.  A  little  later  I  went  to  the  jalace  where  she  in- 
formed me  her  furniture  was  and  found  all  her  earthly  goods  on  the 
sidewalk.  I  inquired  of  some  of  her  former  neig-hbors  about  her 
character,  and  on  being-  convinced  that  she  Avas  a  worthy  woman, 
rented  tAvo  small  rooms  in  a  rear  tenement.  I  found  some  30ung 
street-corner  loafers,  told  them  about  the  woman,  and  asked  them 
to  lend  a  hand  in  getting  the  furniture  moved.  There  is  no  man 
so  bad  that  he  will  not  do  a  g-ood  turn  for  another  if  you  approach 
him  properly.  These  young-  roughs  went  to  work  Avitli  a  Avill,  and 
when  the  poor  woman  returned  from  her  last  fruitless  attempt  to 
collect  enough  for  a  new  home  she  found  everything  arranged.  She 
was  thankful  and  happy.  I  did  not  see  her  until  two  mouths  later. 
Then  she  appeared  in  as  great  distress  as  before,  and  showed  me  a 
new  dispossess  paper.  She  informed  me  that  she  had  failed  to  tind 
work,  everything-  had  been  ag-ainst  her,  but  she  hoped  to  get  on  her 
feet  if  I  would  once  more  help  her.  I  told  her  it  was  impossible 
for  me  to  do  anything-  more  for  her  ;  so  she  thanked  me  for  my 
former  kindness  and  departed.  That  afternoon  I  heard  of  a  lady 
in  Orange,  N.  J.,  who  Avanted  a  house-servant  and  a  little  girl 
as  Avaitress.  I  immediately  thoug-ht  of  the  German  Avoman  and 
promised  if  possible  to  send  her  out  to  Orange  as  soon  as  arrange- 
ments could  be  made.  I  was  soon  in  the  little  rooms  of  the  Avidow 
and  her  daughter  and  expected  to  be  the  bearer  of  joyful  tidings. 
When  I  finished  she  looked  sadly  at  the  few  scanty  pieces  of 
furniture  and  said : 

"  If  I  go  to  the  country  Avhat  shall  I  do  Avith  the  stuff  ?  " 

"My   good    woman,"   I    said,   "the    stuff   is    not    Avorth    fifty 


5-i  THE  POOR  JJ\'  GREAT  CITIES 

cents  ;  give  it  to  the  boys  to  make  a  boutire,  aiul.  Jo  wliat  I  tell 
you." 

"But  I  Lave  not  money  enough  to  leave  the  city." 
I  provided  the  fare,  the  boys  had  a  glorious  time  around  their 
fire,  and  that  night,  instead  of  sleei^iug  in  her  comfortless  room,  the 
poor  woman  was  on  Orange  Mountain.  It  would  have  been  a  losing- 
investment  for  any  landlord  to  give  an  extension  of  time  to  that 
woman,  and  yet  she  was  a  thoroughly  worthy  person,  as  the  sequel 
proved  ;  her  old  misery  and  trouble  were  at  an  end.  She  found 
a  good  home  and  gave  perfect  satisfaction. 

Many  other  experiences  like  this,  and  my  constant  association 
with  the  conditions  of  tenement-house  life,  have,  of  course,  led  me 
to  certain  conclusions  as  to  the  best  remedies,  which  I  shall  reserve 
for  specific  mention  in  the  latter  part  of  this  paper. 

The  population  of  the  tenement-houses  in  lower  New  York  is 
continually  changing.  There  is  a  constant  graduation  of  the  better 
element.  As  soon  as  the  circumstances  of  the  people  imjjrove  they 
want  better  homes.  A  foreigner  who  took  up  his  abode  in  a  tene- 
ment-house fifteen  or  twenty  years  ago  may  be  perfectly  contented 
with  his  surroundings,  but  when  his  children  g-row  up  and  earn 
good  wages  they  are  not  satisfied  with  a  tenement-house,  and  give 
the  old  people  no  peace  u\\i\\  a  new  home  is  found.  Sometimes  a 
man  who  has  led  a  bad  life  reforms  and  immediately  seeks  a  better 
home  for  his  Avife  and  children.  I  know  several  men  who  w^ere  at 
one  time  low  and  degraded  drunkards,  a\1io  would  have  been  satis- 
fied with  a  pig-sty,  who  had  torn  the  clothes  from  their  children's 
backs,  the  blankets  from  their  beds,  and  taken  them  to  the  pawn- 
shop to  get  money  for  drink  ;  but  through  the  good  influences  that 
were  thrown  aroimd  them,  the  wise  counsel  of  friends,  and  the  sav- 
ing power  of  the  gospel  they  became  changed  men.  Their  circum- 
stances began  to  improve,  the  children  were  provided  with  clothes, 
one  xaiece  of  furniture  after  another  was  brought  into  the  empty 
rooms,  until  the  place  began  to  look  like  a  home  again.     These 


LIFE  IN  NEW  YORK  TENEMENT-HOUSES  5 a 

men  were  cliarmed  Avitli  the  new  life.  Home  became  so  dear  a 
place  that  they  are  willing-  to  travel  an  hour  each  morning-  and 
evening-  in  order  to  make  it  still  more  attractive.  They  began  to 
see  the  disadvantages  of  life  in  a  tenement  and  found  a  new  home 
on  Long  Island  or  in  New  Jersey. 


A  Grandfather  Cutting  Carpet-rags. 


This  constant  sifting-  of  the  best  elements  makes  religious  and 
philanthropic  work  in  lower  New  York  exceedingly  difHeuit  and 
apparently  unfruitful,  but  none  the  less  encouraging  and  necessary. 
The  fact  that  the  people  leave  the  tenements  in  search  of  bett(>r 
homes  is  the  best  proof  that  a  good  work  is  being  accomplished. 
A  few  months  ago  we  celebrated  the  tenth  anniversary  of  the  ded- 


56  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

ication  of  one  of  our  city  missiou  cliiirclies.  There  were  six  linn- 
dred  present,  and  out  of  this  number  there  were  only  twenty-four 
who  were  at  the  dedication  ten  years  before.  While  the  better  class 
is  being-  constantly  sifted  out  of  the  tenements,  a  steady  stream  of 
new-comers  flows  in  to  take  their  places. 

Successive  waves  of  population  follow  each  other  in  rapid  suc- 
cession. It  is  often  impossible  to  tell  what  the  character  of  the 
population  will  be  in  the  next  ten  years.  In  1830  the  agents  of  the 
New  York  City  Mission  visited  34,54:2  families.  Among  this  num- 
ber there  Avere  only  264  who  desired  foreig-n  tracts,  showing  that 
the  population  was  then  almost  exclusively  American  or  English- 
speaking.  Now  the  English  language  is  rarely  heard  in  some  of 
the  lower  parts  of  New  York,  except  by  the  children.  That  section 
of  the  city  between  the  Bowery  and  East  River,  Grand  and  Hous- 
ton Streets,  has  been  successively  occupied  by  Americans,  Irish, 
Germans,  and  is  now  fast  coming  into  the  possession  of  Russian 
and  Polish  Jews.  The  Jewish  invasion  has  been  remarkably  rapid. 
Eight  years  ago  I  used  to  see  occasionally  a  Jewish  face  on  the 
streets  or  a  Jewish  sign  over  the  stores.  Now  the  streets  swarm 
with  them. 

In  1892  I  made  a  careful  canvass  of  a  typical  block  and  found 
800  families  composed  of  1,424  individuals.  The  nationalities  of 
the  families  were  as  follows:  244  German,  16  Irish,  11  American,  13 
Hungarian,  6  Polish,  4  Russian,  2  Bohemian,  1  English,  1  Dutch, 
and  2  Chinese.  Among  the  244  German  families  there  were  192 
Jews,  38  Protestants,  and  14  Roman  Catholics.  The  German  Jews 
are  the  most  highly  respected,  and  on  this  account  many  call  them- 
selves German  who  are  in  reality  Russian  or  Polish  Jews.  These 
300  heads  of  families  are  engaged  in  72  different  trades,  occui^a- 
tions,  and  professions.  There  are  73  tailors,  17  cigarmakers,  17 
storekeepers,  12  ]iedlars,  11  painters,  9  butchers,  and  9  shoemakers 
in  the  block.  The  remaining  65  trades  and  professions  are  repre- 
sented by  148  different  persons.  Thirty  of  the  heads  of  families  are 
Roman  Catholics,  47  Protestants,  and  221  Jews,  and  2  have  no  re- 


LIFE  IN  NEW  YORK   TENEMENT-HOUSES  57 

lig-ion.  The  Jews  do  not  as  a  rule  mingle  to  any  great  extent  witli 
the  Christians.  When  they  come  in  large  numbers  into  a  street, 
the  Christians  gradually  withdraw,  and  the  neighborhood  finally 
becomes  a  Jewish  quarter.  There  are  streets  in  New  York  where  it 
is  a  rare  thing  to  find  a  Christian  family. 

During  the  transition  period,  when  a  locality  is  neither  Chris- 
tian nor  Jewish,  an  interesting  state  of  things  prevails — a  Jewish 
family,  a  Koman  Catholic  family,  a  pious  Protestant  family,  and  a 
heathen  family,  as  far  as  religion  is  concerned,  frequently  live  on 
the  same  floor.  Sufi'ering  appeals  to  our  common  humanit^^  In 
trouble  and  sickness  these  neighbors  render  each  other  assistance 
and  often  become  warm  friends.  I  have  seen  a  Jewish  woman 
watching  anxiously  by  the  bedside  of  a  dying  Christian.  A  Roman 
Catholic  or  Jewish  woman  will  often  stand  as  godmother  at  the 
baptism  of  a  Protestant  child.  A  pretty,  black-eyed  Jewess  occa- 
sionally captures  the  heart  of  a  young  Roman  Catholic  or  Protes- 
tant, and  they  have  come  to  me  to  perform  the  marriage  service. 
Persons  of  various  nations  and  religious  beliefs  are  sometimes 
present  at  a  tenement-house  funeral.  Bigotry  and  national  preju- 
dice are  gradually  broken  down  and  the  much-abused  tenement  be- 
comes a  means  of  promoting  the  brotherhood  of  man  and  the  union 
of  Christendom.  You  may  hear  daily  from  the  lips  of  devout  Ro- 
man Catholics  and  Jews  such  words  as  these :  "  We  belong  to  a 
different  religion,  but  we  have  the  same  God  and  hope  to  go  to  the 
same  heaven."  Such  confessions  are  not  often  heard  in  small 
towns  and  country  districts,  but  they  are  frequent  in  the  tenement- 
houses. 

The  Jews,  who  in  all  ages  have  been  noted  for  their  exclusive- 
ness,  are  affected  by  this  contact  with  Christians  in  the  tenement- 
house.  In  De  Witt  Memorial  Church,  with  which  I  am  connected, 
an  audience  of  three  or  four  hundred  Jews  assembles  every  week  to 
hear  Christian  instruction.  From  the  stand-point  of  social  science 
such  a  gathering  every  week  for  two  or  three  years  past  is  sig- 
nificant.    The  Jew  in  every  land  has  preserved  his  identity.     Per- 


58 


THE  POOH  IX  GREAT   CITIES 


Poverty   and    Deatn 


secnitiou  lias  isolated  liim  ;  when  he  has  been  most  hated  he  has 
flourished,  when  he  has  been  despised  he  has  prospered.  Like  the 
symbolic  l>nrning"  bush,  the  fires  of  persecution  have  not  destroyed 
him.  It  remains  to  be  seen  whether  he  will  preserve  his  identity  in 
this  country,  where,  as  a  citizen,  he  enjoys  equal  rights,  and  where 
the  doors  of  the  public  school  and  the  Christian  church  stand  open 
to  Jew  and  Gentile  alike. 

Whatever  may  be  the  nationality  of  the  parents  the  children  are 
always  thoroug-h  Americans.  The  blond-haired,  blue-eyed  German 
children  ;  the  black -haired,  dark-eyed  Italians  ;  the  little  Jews,  both 
dark  and  blonde,  from  many  lands,  are  all  equally  i)roud  of  being 
Americans.  A  patriotic  Irishman  gave  a  beautiful  edition  of  "  Pict- 
uresque Ireland"  to  one  of  the  boys  in  my  Sundaj'-school.     The 


LIFE  IN  NEW  YORK   TENEMENT-HOUSES  59 

lad  looked  disappointed.  His  father  asked  liim  Avhy  lie  was  not 
pleased  with  the  present.  He  answered  :  "I  want  a  history  of  the 
United  States."  We  have  a  circulating  library,  patronized  almost 
exclusively  by  foreigners.  The  librarian  informs  me  that  four  boys 
out  of  every  five  call  for  United  States  histories. 

The  most  powerful  influence  at  work  among  the  tenement-house 
population  is  the  public  school.  Every  public  school  is  a  great 
moral  lighthouse,  and  stands  for  obedience,  cleanliness,  morality, 
and  patriotism,  as  Avell  as  mental  training.  When  the  little  chil- 
dren begin  to  attend  the  schools  their  hands  and  faces  are  in- 
spected, and  if  they  are  not  up  to  the  standard,  they  are  sent  home 
for  a  washing.  A  boy  who  is  especially  dirty  is  sometimes  sent 
down-stairs  with  the  cleanest  boy  in  school,  and  told  to  wash  him- 
self until  he  looks  as  well  as  his  comi^anion.  Such  lessons  are  not 
soon  forgotten,  and  the  result  is  the  public-school  children  in  lower 
New  York  present  a  very  respectable  appearance.  The  fresh-air  ex- 
cursions, with  many  other  benefits,  promote  cleaidiness.  The  heads 
of  the  children  must  be  examined  before  they  can  enjoy  a  trip  into 
the  country.  There  is  no  more  beautiful  and  beneficent  charity  than 
this  fresh-air  work.*  In  two  or  three  weeks  the  pale-faced  children 
return  to  the  crowded  city  with  renewed  health  and  with  larger  and 
better  views  of  life.  I  know  boys  who  became  so  enraptured  with 
green  fields,  running  brooks,  waving  grain,  and  life  on  the  farm 
that  they  have  fully  resolved  to  leave  the  city  when  they  become 
men.  One  little  fellow  was  so  anxious  to  become  a  farmer  that  he 
ran  away  because  his  parents  would  not  permit  him  to  leave  liome. 

The  fresh-air  work  usually  closes  in  October,  but  the  young 
ladies  connected  with  the  "  College  Settlement  "  have  added  a  new 
feature,  which  will  commend  itself  to  everyone  who  is  acquainted 
with  the  condition  of  life  around  us.  Every  Saturday  afternoon 
during  the  winter  two  of  the  ladies  take  a  small  party  of  children  to 
their  summer  home.  Saturday  evening  is  spent  in  playing  various 
*  See  The  Story  of  the  Fresli-air  Fund,  page  131. 


60  THE  POOR  IX  GREAT  CITIES 

games,  or  enjojdng-  a  candy-pull,  and  having  a  general  good  time. 
On  Sunday  the  children  attend  the  country  church,  and  Sunday 
evening,  seated  before  a  blazing  open  fire,  a  good  book  is  read,  or 
the  ladies  in  charge  give  some  practical  talk  to  the  chiklren.  On 
Monday  the  little  party  returns  to  the  city  and  the  house  is  locked 
until  the  following  Saturday.  Such  a  visit  to  the  country  will  be 
indelibly  impressed  upon  these  children.  You  cannot  do  people 
very  much  good  at  long  range.     Hand-picked  fruit  is  the  best. 

In  the  summer  of  1891  I  took  my  first  party  of  boys  from  my 
mission  church  to  Northfield,  Mass.,  and  attended  Mr.  Moody's  stu- 
dents' conference.  We  pitched  our  tents  in  the  forest,  cooked  our 
own  food,  and  sang  college  songs  around  our  camp-fire  at  night. 
In  ten  days  I  became  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  boys,  and 
Avas  able  to  help  them  in  many  ways.  I  believe  if  every  minister, 
priest,  rabbi,  and  Sunday-school  superintendent  would  select  eight 
or  ten  young  men  and  spend  two  weeks  with  them  under  canvas  by 
the  side  of  a  mountain-lake  or  trout-stream,  more  good  might  be 
done  in  iDermanently  influencing  their  lives  than  by  many  weeks  of 
eloquent  preaching. 

To  keep  the  boys  off  the  streets,  and  to  train  them  to  habits  of 
cleanliness,  obedience,  and  manliness,  military  companies  have  been 
formed  in  several  of  our  down-town  Sunday-schools.  It  is  astonish- 
ing how  well  a  number  of  wild  boys  will  go  through  military  tactics 
after  a  few  months'  drilling.  The  hope  of  our  great  cities  lies  in 
the  children  of  the  poor.  If  we  can  influence  them  to  become  up- 
right, honorable  men  and  women,  we  shall  not  only  save  them,  but 
produce  the  most  powerful  lever  for  lifting  up  those  of  the  same 
class  who  are  sinking.  I  know  scores  of  children  and  young  people 
who  are  far  better  than  their  parents.  Some  of  the  noblest  young 
men  I  have  ever  known  have  worthless,  drunken  parents.  Some  of 
the  most  beautiful  flowers  grow  in  mud-ponds,  and  some  of  the 
truest  and  best  young  women  in  our  city  come  from  homes  devoid 
of  good  influences ;  but  in  all  such  cases  uplifting  outside  help  has 
moulded  their  characters. 


LIFE  IN  NEW  YORK  TENEMENT-HOUSES 


61 


While  the  people  in  tenement-houses  are  compelled  to  sleep  in 
rooms  where  the  sunlig-ht  never  enters,  and  suffer  many  discomforts 
from  overcrowding-,  especially  in  summer,  there  are  certain  compen- 


H* 


i^- 


A   Hovel   in  the    Italian   Quarter. 


sations  which  must  not  be  overlooked.  The  poor  in  large  cities 
who  have  steady  work  are,  as  a  rule,  better  fed  and  clothed  than  the 
same  class  in  rural  districts.  Fresh  vegetables,  raised  in  hot-houses, 
or  sent  from  Southern  markets,  are  sold  throughout  the  winter  at 
reasonable  prices,  and  in  the  early  spring-  strawberries  and  various 


62  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT   CITIES 

other  fruits  are  for  sale  on  tlie  streets  in  the  tenement  district  k)ng- 
before  they  reach  the  country  towns  and  villages.  In  the  poorest 
quarter  of  the  city  you  tind  the  so-called  "delicatessen"  shops, 
where  the  choicest  groceries,  preserves,  and  canned  meats  are  sold. 
The  clothing,  too,  worn  by  the  young  people  is  stylish  and  some- 
times expensive  ;  anyone  who  walks  through  these  districts  will  be 
astonished  at  the  number  of  well-dressed  young  i3eople.  A  young 
woman  who  earns  from  $G  to  $8  a  week  will  often  be  dressed  in 
silk  or  satin,  made  according  to  the  fashion.  The  teeth,  finger- 
nails, and  shoes  are  often  the  only  signs  of  her  poverty.  When 
visiting  a  stylish  young  woman's  plain  mother,  I  have  sometimes 
seen  all  the  finery  in  which  the  daughter  appeared  at  church  on 
Sunday  hanging  on  the  wall  of  a  bare,  comfortless  bedroom  not 
much  larger  than  a  good -sized  closet. 

The  tenement-house  people  are  not  all  thriftless,  as  the  records 
of  the  down-town  savings-banks  clearly  prove.  Seven  hundred  out 
of  every  thousand  depositors  in  one  of  the  banks  on  the  Bowery  live 
in  tenement-houses,  and  if  it  were  not  for  tenement-house  deposi- 
tors several  of  our  down -town  savings-banks  would  be  compelled  to 
give  up  business.  An  abundance  of  cruel  and  bitter  poverty,  how- 
ever, can  alwaA'^s  be  found.     The  "  submerged  tenth  "  is  ever  present. 

A  widow,  for  instance,  with  three  or  four  young  children  who  is 
obliged  to  earn  her  bread  by  sewing,  is  in  a  most  pitiable  and  ter- 
rible position.  Hundreds  of  such  weary  mothers  continue  their 
work  far  into  the  night,  with  smarting  eyes,  aching  backs,  and  break- 
ing hearts.  There  is  nothing  which  makes  a  man  who  has  any  feel- 
ing for  the  suffering  of  his  fellows  so  dissatisfied  with  our  present 
social  system  as  the  sight  of  such  a  poor  woman  sewing  shirts  and 
overalls  for  twenty -nine  cents  a  dozen.  There  are  good  people  in 
all  our  large  cities  who  live  just  above  the  starving'-point.  The 
average  earnings  of  the  unskilled  laborers  with  whom  I  am  ac- 
quainted is  not  over  $10  per  week.  When  a  man  is  obliged  to 
spend  one-fourth  of  this  for  rent,  and  feed  and  clothe  his  famil}"  on 


LIFE  IN  NEW  YORK  TENEMENT-HOUSES  65 

the  remainder,  it  is  impossible  to  lay  by  anything-  for  a  rainy  day. 
When  the  father  is  out  of  work  for  a  considerable  time,  or  when 
sickness  or  death  enter  the  home,  distress,  hunger,  and  an  urg-ent 
landlord  stare  him  in  the  face. 

It  is  easy  for  those  who  have  never  felt  it  to  overlook  the  con- 
stant strain  of  poverty  and  the  irritation  which  it  causes  in  families 
which  in  circumstances  of  ordinary  comfort  would  be  contented. 
In  such  cases  particularly  can  great  g-ood  be  accomplished  by  a 
visit  from  some  clear-siglited  and  sympathetic  person. 

Not  very  long-  ag-o  I  was  invited  to  act  as  referee  between  a 
husband  and  wife.  There  were  three  little  children  and  a  g-rand- 
mother  in  the  family.  The  man  worked  in  a  cigar-box  factory ; 
business  Avas  slack  and  he  was  employed  only  half  time.  His 
averag-e  weekly  earning-s  were  $5.  They  had  a  debt  of  $11  at  a 
grocery-store  and  another  of  $35  at  an  undertaker's  shop.  I  knew 
the  family ;  both  husband  and  wife  were  honest,  sober,  and  indus- 
trious people.  The  wife  wanted  to  break  up  housekeeping- ;  the 
husband  was  opposed  to  this  plan,  and  they  had  agreed  to  abide 
by  my  decision.  I  examined  each  one  separately.  I  began  Avitli 
the  husliand  and  said : 

"  When  a  physician  prescribes  a  remedy  he  must  first  know  the 
disease.  I  want  }■  ou,  therefore,  to  tell  me  plainly  why  yoiir  wife 
wants  to  break  up  the  home.  There  may  be  good  reasons  why  her 
plan  should  be  adopted.  If  you  two  cannot  possibly  agree,  and  are 
fighting  like  cats  and  dogs,  then  I  may  be  in  favor  of  breaking  up. 
Tell  nie  just  how  the  matter  stands." 

He  informed  me  that  he  and  his  wife  had  always  lived  in  perfect 
peace.  They  never  had  any  trouble  except  poverty.  The  wife  Ijad 
become  completely  discouraged,  and  the  only  way  she  saw  out  of 
the  difficulty  was  to  jDut  the  children  into  an  orphan  asylum  and  go 
out  as  a  house-servant  until  she  could  earn  enough  to  clear  off  the 
debt,  after  which  she  hoped  to  get  her  home  together  again.  The 
wife  and  grandmother  gave  me  the  same  account.  The  perpetual 
strain  of  poverty  was  the  only  reason  for  breaking  up  the  home. 


66  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT   CITIES 

For  the  sake  of  the  three  little  children  I  decided  that  the  home 
must  not  be  broken  up  and  promised  to  see  that  the  debt  at  the 
<?rocery-store  was  wiped  out  and  the  family  clothing  was  taken  out 
of  the  pawn-shop.  The  grandmother  was  so  pleased  with  the  de- 
cision that  she  determined  to  become  a  servant  and  begged  me  to 
find  a  place  for  her. 

In  our  large  cities  there  is  too  much  isolation  between  the  rich 
and  the  poor.  The  charitable  societies  are  often  the  only  link 
between  them.  If  the  mother  of  every  well-to-do  home  in  our 
large  cities  would  regularly  visit,  once  a  month,  a  needy  family,  a 
vast  amount  of  good  would  be  accomplished  among  the  worthy 
poor,  and  distress  would  be  unknown.  Human  nature  is  too  selfish 
for  such  a  happy  state  of  things  ever  to  be  realized,  but  it  is  pos- 
sible to  bring  the  givers  and  receivers  of  charity  closer  together 
than  they  are.  If  some  of  the  wealthier  ladies  who  now  give  a  few- 
dollars  each  year  to  the  charitable  societies  would  seek  through 
these  societies  to  come  into  direct  personal  contact  with  the  recipi- 
ents of  their  charity,  they  would  experience  a  deeper  happiness 
and  fully  realize  the  blessedness  of  giving.  Business  men  are  too 
much  occupied  to  make  a  monthly  visit  to  the  tenement-houses, 
but  if  their  wives  and  daughters  would  undertake  this  work  a  new 
day  would  dawn  for  many  a  poor,  heartbroken  mother  who  is  now 
hopeless  and  longing  for  death  to  end  her  misery.  We  are  fre- 
quently asked,  "  Is  it  safe  for  a  lady  to  visit  these  great  tenement- 
houses  ?  "  We  answer  unhesitatingly,  perfectly  safe.  The  young 
ladies  connected  with  the  City  Mission  go  unmolested  into  the 
darkest  portions  of  New  York.  The  first  visit  to  a  tenement-house 
might  be  made  in  the  company  of  a  city  missionary,  after  which 
the  most  timid  could  go  alone. 

Nothing  is  easier  than  to  make  paupers  out  of  the  poor.  Great 
discretion  must  be  exercised,  but  the  Charity  Organization  So- 
ciety, the  Society  for  Improving  the  Condition  of  the  Poor,  the 
City  Mission,  the  Children's  Aid  Society,  and  other  equally  worthy 
institutions  are  ever  ready  to  give   direction   to  individuals  who 


LIFE  IJV  yEW  YORK  TENEMENT-HOUSES 


07 


The   Monroe   Model  Tenement. 


desire  to  do  personal  work.  A  few  ijersons  have  through  the  City 
Mission  come  into  personal  contact  with  the  poor,  and  the  results 
are  most  g-ratifying-. 

While  in  a  small  town  the  distress  of  the  poor  is  easil}^  made 


68  THE  POOR  IN  GEE  AT  CITIES 

known  tlirouo'li  friends  and  neighbors  or  the  clerg-yman,  in  our 
large  cities  the  most  deserving  are  often  overlooked  and  suffer  most 
intenseh^ ;  and  it  is  these  cases  which  are  reached  by  personal 
visitation.  The  w^orthy  poor  are  generally  the  silent  poor.  Their 
sufferings  must  be  extreme  before  they  make  their  wants  known. 
There  are  many  poor,  upright,  God-fearing  old  people  who  strug- 
gle against  fearful  odds  to  keep  body  and  soul  together,  and  yet 
they  drift  daily  toward  the  almshouse  on  Blackwell's  Island,  the 
last  and  most  dreaded  halting-place  on  the  way  to  Potter's  Field. 
I  have  nothing  to  say  against  the  administration  of  the  almshouse 
or  the  treatment  of  its  inmates,  but  I  do  not  wonder  that  old  men 
and  women  who  have  led  a  good  moral  life,  would  rather  die  than 
be  stranded  on  the  island  and  take  up  their  abode  among  the 
broken  wrecks  of  humanitj^  which  fill  that  institution. 

It  is  very  unwise  to  give  aid  without  a  thorough  investigation. 
Some  time  since  a  Polish  Jew  asked  me  the  way  to  a  certain  street. 
I  directed  him,  and  he  said  :  "  Dear  sir,  I  am  in  great  distress  ;  my 
furniture  is  standing  on  the  sidewalk  in  Essex  Street,  and  my  chil- 
dren are  watching  the  stuff,  while  I  am  trying  to  collect  a  little 
money  to  get  another  place."  He  drew  from  his  pocket  a  few 
coppers,  and  asked  me  to  add  my  gift.  I  said :  "  I  do  not  know 
you,  and  I  am  acquainted  with  a  great  many  poor  people  whom  I 
would  like  to  help,  but  I  have  not  the  means  ;  how,  then,  can  you 
expect  any  help  from  me  ?  "  Two  streams  burst  from  his  eyes. 
The  big  tears  rained  down  his  beard  and  coat.  "  It  is  hard,"  he 
said,  and  bowed  his  head,  buried  his  face  in  a  red  handkerchief, 
wdped  off  the  tears,  and  passed  on.  I  crossed  the  street.  The  tears 
of  that  sad  man  touched  me.  I  turned,  ran  after  him,  and  said : 
"  Where  is  the  stuff?  "  "  In  Essex  Street."  "  What  have  you  ?  " 
"  A  table,  bureau,  bed,  and  looking-glass,"  he  replied.  "  Have  you 
nothing  small  that  I  can  take  with  me  and  loan  you  money  on  ?  "' 
He  pointed  to  his  well-worn  greasy  coat,  and  said  :  "  I  have  this." 
"  Show  me  the  stuff,"  I  said.  We  walked  together,  and  I  endeavored 
to  carry  on  a  conversation  w'ith  the  stranger  in  German,  for  he  was 


LIFE  m  NEW  YORK  TENEMENT-HOUSES  69 

igrnorant  of  Eng-lish,  but  suddenly  lie  seemed  to  have  lost  all  kiiowl- 
edge  of  the  German  tongue  in  which  he  had  before  addressed  me, 
and  was  perfectly  dumb.  When  we  reached  Eidsre  Street  he  fiuallv 
spoke,  and  asked  me  to  wait  for  him  a  moment  while  he  went  to  see 
a  friend.  I  said :  "  Look  here,  I  want  you  to  take  me  to  the  stuff 
immediately."  He  looked  amazed  and  said  :  "  What  have  I  to  do 
with  you  ?  "  "A  good  deal,"  I  replied  ;  "  you  either  take  me  to  the 
stuff  or  I  take  you  to  the  police  station."  "  Do  you  think  I  am  a 
liar  ?  "  I  said  :  "  You  must  take  me  to  the  stuff  or  you  are  a  liar." 
"Come,"  he  said,  "  I  will  take  you  to  the  stuff."  It  was  wonderful  to  see 
how  that  old  man,  who  had  moved  so  slowly  before,  walked  through 
the  crowded  streets.  I  had  all  I  could  do  to  keep  up  with  him.  We 
soon  reached  Essex  Street.  It  was  Friday  afternoon  and  Essex  Street 
was  in  all  its  g'lory— old  clothes,  decayed  meat,  pungent  fish,  and 
stale  fruit  abounded.  The  Ghetto  in  Eome  and  the  Jewish  quarters 
in  London  and  Amsterdam  are  nothing-  compared  with  Essex  Street. 
At  one  place  it  was  almost  impossible  to  get  through  the  crowd, 
and  I  left  the  sidewalk  and  took  the  street.  In  a  moment  my  new 
acquaintance  disappeared,  and  I  have  not  seen  him  since.  I  liave 
no  doubt  this  man  and  many  others  like  him  are  making  a  good 
deal  of  money  by  playing  on  the  sympathies  of  poor  people. 

I  have  made  it  a  rule  never  to  give  a  homeless  man  money,  but 
when  his  breath  does  not  smell  of  whiskey  I  give  him  my  card 
containing  the  name  and  address  of  a  lodging-house.  The  card 
must  be  used  the  same  day  it  is  given.  As  some  of  those  who  ask 
for  a  lodging  never  use  the  cards,  my  bill  is  always  less  than  the 
number  of  cards  given  out.  One  night  a  man  told  me  he  was  tired 
of  his  bad  life  and  he  wanted  to  become  a  better  man.  I  spoke  a 
few  encouraging  words  to  him  and  was  about  to  dismiss  him,  when 
he  told  me  he  Avas  sick  and  needed  just  five  cents  to  get  a  dose  of 
salts.  I  took  him  at  his  word  and  immediately  sent  for  the  drug 
and  made  him  take  it  on  the  spot.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  he 
never  troubled  me  again. 

There  remain  many  cases  where  charity  is  of  no  avail.     Where 


(0 


THE  POOR  IX  GREAT  CITIES 


poverty  is  caused  by  crime,  no  relief  can  come  except  by  breaking- 
lip  the  home.  Not  loni;-  since  I  was  called  to  take  charg-e  of  the 
funeral  of  a  little  child.     I  g-roped  my  Avay  up  the  creaking-,  filthy 


/. 


•^ 


i 


«L„ 


d^KoOiHTprJ 


An  Invalid   Supporting  His   Family   by   Making  Lace 


stairs  of  a  small,  old-fashioned  rear  tenement.  I  knocked,  but  heard 
no  response  ;  I  pushed  the  door  open,  but  found  no  one  in  the  room, 
yet  this  was  the  place — "  Kear,  top  lioor,  left  door."     I  made  no 


LIFE  IN  NEW   YORK  TENEMENT-HOUSES  71 

mistake.  I  entered  the  room  and  found  a  dead  baby  wrapped  in  an 
old  towel  lying-  on  a  table,  I  learned  from  the  neig-hbory  that  the 
father  and  mother  had  been  out  collecting-  money  to  bury  the  child 
and  both  had  become  beastly  drunk.  I  returned  to  the  dead  child, 
read  the  burial  service,  and  thanked  God  that  the  little  one  was  out 
of  its  misery.  A  little  later  a  man  came  and  took  the  body  to  Pot- 
ter's Field.  The  parents  had  buried  (it  would  bo  more  accurate  to 
say  starved  to  death)  six  children  before  they  were  two  years  old. 
Yery  little  can  be  done  for  such  people.  Cumulative  sentences 
ought  to  be  imposed  upon  them  each  time  they  are  arrested  for 
drunkenness,  so  that  prison-bars  may  prevent  them  from  bring-iug- 
the  little  sufferers  into  the  world. 

A  great  deal  is  done  by  the  various  charitable  societies  for  the 
relief  of  distress,  but  as  far  as  my  observation  g-oes  the  most  effec- 
tive charitable  work  is  done  by  the  poor  themselves.  Thousands  of 
dollars  are  given  away  in  the  tenement  districts  every  year  by  the  in- 
habitants of  the  tenements,  of  which  no  charitable  society  makes  a 
record.  I  have  never  related  a  peculiarly  distressing  case  of  poverty 
to.  a  poor  iDerson  but  there  was  a  ready  response,  and  out  of  their 
own  poverty  the  poor  have  ministered  to  those  who  were  in  need  of 
relief.  The  children  of  our  City  Mission  school,  who  come  from  the 
tenement-houses,  contribute  every  Thanksgiving-Day  from  $80  to 
$100  for  the  poor  in  our  immediate  neighborhood.  A  club  of  fifty 
small  boys  and  girls  saved  their  pennies  one  year  and  bought  thirty- 
five  Thanksgiving  dinners  for  the  poor,  consisting  of  chickens,  pota- 
toes, beans,  turnips,  and  cabbages.  The  original  plan  was  to  have 
a  head  of  cabbage  go  with  each  chicken,  but  the  money  gave  out ; 
this  did  not  in  any  way  disconcert  the  children,  for  they  quickly 
solved  the  difficulty  by  cutting  a  cabbage  into  four  parts,  and  put- 
ting a  quarter  into  each  bag.  The  children  worked  from  7.30  to 
11  P.M.  distributing  the  provisions.  The  members  of  this  club  visit 
the  hospitals,  sing  to  the  patients,  and  furnish  them  with  reading 
matter.     In  ten  months  they  distributed  as  many  as  27,901  booklets 


yo  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

aii.l  illustrated  papers.  One  summer  the  cliildren  noticed  that  the 
Hies  troubled  the  sick  people  and  there  were  no  fans  in  some  of  the 
hospitals.  They  saved  their  pennies,  which  in  most  cases  would 
have  ^one  to  the  candy-store,  and  bought  a  lot  of  palm-leaf  fans  at 
a  whcLsale  house.  They  bound  the  fans  with  variously  colored 
ribbons  and  decorated  them  with  scripture  texts  appropriate  to  the 
sick,  and  on  Sunday  afternoon  presented  them  to  the  delighted 
patients.  Tlic  poor  give  that  which  costs  them  something,  and 
their  joy  is  correspondingly  greater.  That  the  most  spontaneous 
and  beautiful  charity  flourishes  in  the  tenement-houses  will  un- 
doubtedly be  a  surprise  to  many,  but  it  is  a  fact  well  known  to  all 
who  have  any  large  acquaintance  with  the  poor  in  our  great  cities. 

It  is  equally  true  that  there  is  more  virtue  in  tenement  localities 
than  is  commonly  supposed.  Darkness  and  sin  have  much  in  com- 
mon. The  dark  halls  and  crowded  homes  are  not  favorable  to 
virtue,  but  nevertheless  virtue  is  the  rule  and  vice  the  exception. 
The  people  who  live  in  tenement-houses  are  not  fastidious  about 
rules  of  etiquette  and  propriety.  Young  women  sometimes  allow 
young  men  to  address  them  and  caress  them  in  a  manner  which 
would  oifend  well-bred  people,  and  yet  these  girls  would  indig- 
nantly resent  any  liberties  which  they  consider  dishonoring.  Young 
people  occasionally  desire  to  be  married  secretly,  and  timidly  ask 
if  it  is  not  possible  for  me  to  date  back  the  wedding  certificate 
three  or  four  months  ;  such  cases,  however,  are  not  common.  There 
are  many  hasty  marriages  Avhere  the  consent  of  the  parents  has 
not  been  obtained ;  these  sometimes  end  in  a  speedy  sej^aration. 
Yoiing  girls  occasionally  come  to  me  accompanied  by  young  men 
half  drunk  and  ask  me  to  perform  the  marriage  ceremony.  There 
are  self-styled  clergymen  who  put  up  conspicuous  signs  advertising- 
the  fact  that  they  make  a  business  of  uniting  young  people  in  mar- 
riage. These  hungry  sharks  are  ever  ready  to  give  their  services 
for  one  or  two  dollars,  thus  phuiging  thoughtless  j^oung  people 
into  misery.  I  have  succeeded  in  breaking  up  matches  which  I 
knew  Avould  have  brought  certain  ruin  to  the  parties  concerned.     I 


LIFE  IN  NEW  YORK  TENEMENT-HOUSES 


73 


always  refuse  to  marry  a  young-  couple  when  I  am  not  permitted 
to  consult  the  parents  before  performing-  the  ceremony.  If  a  law 
were  passed  making-  it  oliligatory  on  young  people  to  get  a  license 


The   Poor  Helping  the   Poor — Distributing  Thanksgiving  Dinners. 

from  the  civil  courts  before  a  clergyman  could  perform  the  mar- 
riage, some  unfortunate  marriages  would  be  prevented.  A  few- 
hours  of  sober  reflection  would  bring  both  parties  to  their  senses. 

The  young  people  in  our  cities  are  extravagant.     Very  few  of 
them  save  anything.     Many  of  them   put  all  they  earn  on  their 


74  TIII'J  POOR  IX  GREAT   CITIES 

backs,  and  sometinies  have  not  enough  to  pay  the  weddmg-  fee,  and 
all  the  furniture  for  the  new  home  has  been  bought  on  the  instal- 
ment plan.  AVhen  the  young  husband  is  sober  and  industrious  the 
married  life  generally  moves  on  smoothly.  It  frequently  happens, 
however,  that  from  the  day  of  her  marriage  a  girl  begins  to  fade 
like  a  flower.  In  three  or  four  years  a  bright  young  girl  will  degen- 
erate into  a  careworn,  ill-tempered,  slovenly  middle-aged  woman, 
surrounded  hy  two  ox  three  pale,  ragged,  ungoverned  children. 
She  spent  her  girlhood  in  a  store  or  sIioid,  and  was  never  initiated 
into  the  art  of  housekeei^ing.  Her  husband  finds  the  saloon  a  far 
more  comfortable  place  than  his  home.  When  industrial  training- 
shall  have  been  introduced  into  every  public  school  and  the  girls 
get  a  thorough  training  in  housekeei3ing  we  may  look  for  improve- 
ment in  the  home  life  of  the  poor  in  our  cities.  The  cooking  classes 
in  connection  with  the  girls'  clubs,  the  Young  Women's  Christian 
Association,  and  those  opened  in  some  of  the  City  Mission  churches 
are  doing  excellent  service  in  training  young  women  to  assume  the 
responsibilities  of  home-makers. 

The  influence  of  the  church  on  the  tenement  population  is  not 
as  great  as  it  probably  will  be  in  the  near  future.  The  strongest 
churches  have  followed  their  constituents  and  moved  up-town  ; 
those  which  remained  have  languished,  and  in  some  cases  have 
been  compelled  to  close  for  want  of  active  support.  A  new  era 
has  dawned.  All  religious  denominations  are  interested  in  the 
churehless  masses,  Ncav  churches  and  chapels  are  being  erected 
down-town,  and  there  is  a  strong  feeling  in  every  quarter  that  the 
old  stations  must  be  maintained.  The  wisest  men  fully  recognize 
the  fact  that  if  the  churches- among  the  tenement  population  are  to 
do  efficient  work  they  must  be  well  manned,  richly  endowed,  and 
run  at  high  pressure  all  through  the  year.  AVherever  church  work 
has  been  pursued  on  these  lines  the  results  have  been  most  gratify- 
ing. The  workingmen,  although  not  hostile,  are  generally  extremely 
indifferent  to  religion.     They  are  concerned  about  food,  clothing, 


LIFE  IN  NEW  YORK   TENEMENT-HOUSES 


75 


and  a  place  of  shelter  for  the  present,  and  trouble  themselves  but 
little  al)out  the  future.  The  fact  that  the  church  is  beginning-  to 
take  an  active  interest  in 
the  temporal  welfare  of  the 
working  people  is  already- 
producing  beneficial  results. 
The  daily  press  exerts  as 
great  an  influence  over  the 
j)arents  as  the  public  school 
does  over  the  children.  The 
workingnien  in  the  tenement- 
houses  constantly  read  the 
newspapers,  and  they 
read  almost  nothing- 
else.  What  we  need 
is  not  more  learned 
lectureship  founda- 
tions on  the  evi- 
dences of  Christian- 
ity, but  endowments 
to  secure  a  large 
number  of  short,  con- 
cise, popular  prize 
essays  on  moral  and 
religious  s  u  b  - 
jects,  especially 
adapted  in  lan- 
guage and  style 
to  the  working 
people.  If  these 
prize  essays 
were  published 

in  the  Sunday  pa^jers  they   Avould  be  read  by  tens  of  thousands 
of  workingmen,  and  be  a  most  powerful  means  of  doing  good. 


A   Missionary  Workshop — De   Witt   Memorial   Church  (non-sectariarn) 


76  THK  POOR  IX  GREAT  CITIES 

There  are  a  g-reat  many  things  which  might  be  done  to  improve 
the  conditions  of  the  poor,  but  most  of  the  schemes  proposed  are 
altogether  impracticable.  If  we  could  make  the  poor  sober  and 
industrious,  and  the  rich  unselfish  and  generous,  poverty  would  soon 
disappear;  unfortunately  we  can  do  neither.  We  must  take  the 
world  as  we  find  it,  and  employ  the  best  means  to  reach  the  desired 
end.  I  have  seen  a  great  deal  of  w^retchedness  and  poverty  in  lower 
New  York,  and  for  some  of  these  evils  I  can  ofler  no  remedy  ;  but 
if  the  following  suggestions  could  be  carried  out  I  believe  some- 
thing would  be  done  toward  improving-  "  darkest  New  York  :  " 

First. — There  is  nothing  the  inhabitants  of  the  tenement-houses 
need  so  much  as  more  room,  sunshine,  and  fresh  air.  At  present 
the  sun  never  shines  in  the  bedrooms  of  three-quarters  of  the 
people  of  New  York  City.  In  some  parts  of  our  city  the  population 
is  nearly  twice  as  dense  as  in  the  most  crowded  part  of  London. 
Nowhere  on  the  wide  earth  are  human  beings  so  crowded  as  in  the 
tenement  districts.  The  sufiering  in  July  and  August  is  often  in- 
tense. The  bedrooms  become  unbearable,  and  the  roofs,  fire-escapes, 
and  empty  wagons  are  used  as  sleeping-places.  Thousands  of  little 
children  do  not  see  green  grass  during*  the  entire  summer ;  they  are 
virtually  prisoners  in  their  own  homes.  The  only  true  remedy  can 
come  in  a  complete  system  of  cheap  rapid  transit.  If  the  happy 
day  ever  comes  when  a  poor  man  can  be  carried  to  the  green  fields 
of  Long  Island,  New  Jersey,  or  Westchester  County  for  five  cents, 
then  a  wonderful  change  will  take  place.  It  is  commonly  supposed 
that  the  poor  enjoy  herding  together  like  dumb  brutes  on  a  cattle 
train,  but  nothing  is  further  from  the  truth.  The  only  reason  why 
so  many  jieople  put  up  with  the  numerous  inconveniences  of  a  ten- 
ement-house is  simply  that  stern  necessity  compels  them  to  live 
in  this  way.  At  the  present  time,  with  all  the  inconveniences  of 
travel,  many  persons  are  leaving-  tenement-houses  and  seeking  bet- 
ter homes  in  Brooklyn,  Jersey  City,  and  upper  New  Y^ork.  If  the 
North  and  East  Rivers  were  spanned  with  railroad  bridges,  so 
that  in  twenty  minutes  a  workingman  might  be  ten  miles  distant 


LIFE  IN  NEW  YORK   TENEMENT-HOUSES  77 

from  the  factory  or  store,  there  would  be  a  great  exodus  from  the 
tenement-houses,  and  many  places  now  used  as  homes  would  be 
turned  into  shops  and  warehouses. 

Second. — A  great  blessing  will  be  conferred  on  the  crowded  mul- 
titudes of  the  East  Side  when  the  long-promised  and  eagerly-de- 
sired small  jDarks  are  opened.  There  are  stone,  coal,  and  lumber 
yards  on  the  river-front  on  the  East  Side  which  would  make  attrac- 
tive breathing  sjjots  for  the  children  of  the  poor.  If  the  Park  Com- 
missioners would  bestir  themselves,  and  with  all  possible  haste  pro- 
vide the  children  of  the  poor  with  small  jsarks  and  play-grounds 
they  would  confer  an  inestimable  blessing  upon  the  city. 

Thirxl. — Great  improvements  have  been  made  in  the  construc- 
tion and  sanitary  arrangements  of  tenement-houses,  but  still  more 
must  be  done  in  the  same  direction.  There  are  scores  of  horrible, 
pestilential  rat-holes  which  are  utterly  unfit  for  human  habitation. 
All  such  places  ought  to  be  condemned,  and  the  Board  of  Health 
must  be  backed  up  by  public  sentiment  in  its  endeavor  to  root  out 
these  plague-spots.  Our  city  lots  are  not  of  the  proper  size  to  erect 
the  large  rectangular  European  tenements  with  a  court  in  the  centre, 
from  which  light  and  air  can  be  conveyed  into  every  room.  A  few 
such  model  tenements,  however,  have  been  built  by  associations  of 
philanthropists  and  private  individuals.  More  of  these  model  ten- 
ements are  needed.  They  will  bring  down  the  exorbitantly  high 
rents  which  are  now  exacted  from  the  poorest  people.  The  model 
tenement  will  confer  a  great  boon  upon  large  families.  It  is  often 
exceedingly  difficult  for  a  man  who  has  seven  or  eight  children  to 
get  rooms  in  the  better  class  houses.  The  first  question  asked  is, 
"  How  many  children  have  you?  "  I  know  families  who  have  been 
compelled  to  pay  a  high  rent  for  poor  accommodations  on  account 
of  the  large  number  of  children.  A  poor  woman  searched  all  day 
for  rooms  ;  wherever  she  saw  a  place  that  suited  her  the  old  question, 
"How  many  children  have  you?"  was  asked,  and  she  was  obliged 
to  look  elsewhere.  One  morning  she  sent  all  her  children  to  Green- 
wood Cemetery,  XDut  on  a  black  dress,  and    began    the    search    of 


(S 


THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 


rcjoms.  \\'lien  she  had  fouud  a  suitable  phice  the  landloi-a  asked, 
•'How  many  chiWreii  have  you?"  "Six,"  answered  the  woman, 
sadly ;  "  but  they  are  all  in  Greenwood."  The  landlord  was  satis- 
tied  that  the  children  would  do  his  place  no  harm.  The  woman 
paid  a  month's  rent  and  took  possession.  There  was  a  scene  at 
iiio-ht,  but  during-  the  month  the  woman  proved  to  be  such  a  good 
tenant  that  she  was  allowed  to  remain  permanently. 

Foiirth.—T\\e  saloon  is  the  poor  man's  club,  and  flourishes  most 
vigorously  in  the  poorest  sections  of  the  city.     Instead  of  denounc- 
ing the  saloon  on  account  of  the  numerous  evils  it  afflicts  on  the 
poor,  something  better  must  be  supplied  to  take  its  place.     "  Home 
is  the  sacred  refuge  of  our  life,"  but  notwithstanding  all  that  poets 
have  sung  and  moralists  have  spoken,  many  workingmen  are  per- 
fectly  convinced  that  two  dark  bedrooms  and  a  kitchen  is  not  an 
attractive  place  in  which  to  spend  a  pleasant  evening  with  a  friend. 
The  saloon  is  the  only  substitute.     When  Orpheus  passed  by  the 
cave  of  the  siren  he  took  his  lyre  and  made  such  wondrous  melody 
that  sailors,  enraptured  by  the  music,  spurned  the  seductive  strains 
that  Avere  wafted  from   the   dangerous   cave.      The   fal>le  has   its 
application— give  the  workingmen  something  they  will  like  as  well 
as  the  saloon  and  you  will  strike  at  the  root  of  the  evil.     There  are 
excellent  places,  like  Cooper  Union  and  the  Young  Men's  Institute  ; 
but  these  institutions  cannot  expect  to  draw  those  who  live  one  or 
two   miles   away  in  another  part  of  the  city.     If  the  workingmen 
were  fully  alive  to  the  advantages  aftbrded  them  they  would  un- 
doubtedly be  willing  to  walk  a  long  distance,  but  the  majority  of 
them  have  no  ambition  to  improve  themselves.     Uliey  spend  their 
evenings    in   the   saloons    because   they   are   always    within   easy 
reach  and  form  agreeable  meeting-places.     It  is  absurd  to  denounce 
the  saloon  in  imqualified  terms.      The  multitudes  who  patronize 
them  are  not  all  absolute  fools.     Many  simply  seek  to  satisfy  the 
craving  after  fellowship  which  the  Creator  has  implanted  in  their 
natures.     The  saloons  are  well-lighted,  conveniently  located  social 
clubs,  provided  in  some  cases  with  a  pleasant  reading-room,  and 


LIFE  IN  NEW  YORK  TENEMENT-HOUSES  81 

always  Avith  obliging-  proprietors.  Wise  men  are  beginning  to  see 
tliat  a  substitute  must  be  supplied  to  take  the  place  of  the  saloon 
which  shall  retain  all  its  good  features  and  simx3ly  discard  its  evil 
elements.  The  churches  of  various  denominations  are  taking  a 
deep  interest  in  providing  attractive,  well -lighted  reading  and  club- 
rooms  for  the  workingmen  in  our  large  cities.  A  great  and  bene- 
ficent Avork  might  be  done  by  the  Board  of  Education  if  free  read- 
ing rooms  and  libraries  were  opened  in  connection  with  every 
public  school  in  the  crowded  portions  of  the  city. 

Fifth. — Good  old  John  Wesley  said,  "  Cleanliness  is  next  to  god- 
liness ;  "  but  bathing  in  tenement-houses  is  exceedingly  difficult  and 
sometimes  impossible.  On  pleasant  days,  when  vast  numbers  of 
young  men  prefer  the  street-corner  to  the  saloon,  I  have  often  stopped 
among  a  group  of  young  fellows  and  said  :  "  Boys,  suppose  a  first- 
class  swimming-bath  were  opened  somewhere  in  this  neighborhood, 
where  you  could  for  five  or  ten  cents  dive  from  a  spring-board  and 
plunge  into  a  tank  50  feet  wide  and  100  feet  long,  full  of  warm,  clean 
water,  would  you  patronize  such  a  place  ?  "  and  the  spontaneous 
and  united  answer  ahvays  is  :  "  You  bet  your  life  we  would."  I  am 
fully  convinced  that  if  a  first-class  natatorium,  with  reading-rooms, 
library,  and  restaurant  attached,  was  opened  in  some  crowded 
district,  the  result  would  surpass  all  exf)ectation.  The  baths  have 
been  remarkably  successful  in  London.  In  one  of  these  institutions 
over  two  hundred  thousand  baths  were  taken  in  a  single  year,  and 
the  receijjts  were  more  than  $3,000  over  the  expenditures.  Every 
humanitarian  effort  which  is  successful  across  the  ocean  does  not 
succeed  here,  but  from  the  sights  which  I  witness  every  summer, 
when  hundreds  of  young  men  plunge  from  the  docks,  lumber-yards, 
and  shipping,  at  the  risk  of  being  arrested  and  having  their  clothes 
stolen,  I  am  convinced  that  a  swimming-bath  would  at  once  become 
Immensely  pojjular.  The  old  Romans  were  wise  in  this  respect. 
One  of  their  great  baths  in  our  modern  cities  would  be  an  efiective 
means  of  aiding  all  forms  of  good  work. 

At  the  Christian  conference  held  in  Chickering  Hall,  in  1888,  I 
6 


82  THE  POOR  IN  ORE  AT  CITIES 

endeavored  to  impress  upon  the  audience  tlie  need  of  public  baths. 
The  <rood  work  begun  at  that  time  by  the  City  Mission  has  been 
completed  by  the  Society  for  Improving-  the  Condition  of  the  Poor. 
The  first  bath  was  opened  in  August,  1891,  and  the  results  dxe  most 
satisfactory.  Sixteen  thousand  baths  were  taken  during  the  first 
one  hundred  and  fifteen  days.  One  day  in  the  latter  part  of  Au- 
gust, 1891,  there  were  six  hundred  and  sixty-nine  bathers.* 

Sixth. — There  has  been  great  need  of  a  universal  loan  associa- 
tion. The  poor,  as  well  as  the  rich,  are  frequently  compelled  to 
borrow  money.  Unfortunately  the  poor,  until  lately,  have  not 
been  able  to  get  it  at  a  reasonable  interest.  There  is  no  bank  in 
the  city  that  Avill  loan  a  poor  man  money  and  take  his  old 
clothes,  his  wife's  wedding-ring,  or  some  little  household  treas- 
ure as  security.  Yet  the  poor  man  is  forced  to  borrow.  He  has 
been  out  of  work  a  few  weeks.  The  landlord  will  come  to-mor- 
row. The  children  are  hungry  and  call  loudly  for  bread.  In  the 
dark  bedroom  lies  a  child  Avitli  a  burning  fever.  A  physician 
has  been  to  see  the  child.  He  is  a  kind-hearted  man,  he  knows 
the  hardships  of  the  poor  and  does  not  expect  his  fee  to-day ;  but 
of  course  the  father  cannot  be  expected  to  pay  for  the  prescrip- 
tion he  has  just  written.  How  shall  the  man  get  bread  for  those 
hungry  children  and  medicine  for  this  one  who  is  sick  ?  They  have 
one  last  resort  left — the  household  idols  must  be  sacrificed.  All 
the  valuables  are  brought  together.  These  little  rings  and  lockets, 
and  the  silver  cup  which  a  proud  uncle  presented  to  the  first  baby 
boy  ;  the  father's  overcoat  and  Sunday  suit,  with  the  mother's  best 
dress,  are  all  needed  to  make  up  the  $10  for  the  landlord,  and  to  get 
food  and  medicine  for  the  children.  The  pawnbroker  is  ready  to 
devour  everything  which  has  any  value.  The  pawn-tickets  are 
carefully  put  away,  and  the  parents  confidently  hope  that  they  Avill 
soon  be  able  to  redeem  the  things  they  have  "  put  away."  They 
redeem  them  at  three  per  cent,  a  month,  or  else  they  finally  lose 
them,  not  having  received  more  than  one-fifth  of  the  actual  value 
*  Nearly  one  Imndred  thousand  baths  are  now  taken  every  year. 


LIFE  IN  NEW   YORK  TENEMENT-HOUSES  83 

of  the  articles.  I  sent  a  boy  to  an  East  Side  pawn-shop  with  a 
g-okl  watch,  the  original  cost  of  which  was  $150 ;  its  actual  present 
value  was  certainly  not  less  than  1^40.  The  boy  received  $5,  and 
this  was  as  much  as  he  could  get.  I  redeemed  the  watch  the  next 
day,  much  to  the  disgust  of  the  pawnbroker.  What  has  proved  a 
great  blessing  to  many  people  in  distress,  was  the  opening  of  the 
offices  of  the  Provident  Loan  Society,  in  the  United  Charities 
Building  on  Fourth  Avenue  and  Twenty-second  Street.*  I  fear 
that  heretofore,  no  charitable  society  has  undertaken  this  work, 
from  the  mistaken  idea  many  people  have  that  su-ch  an  institution 
would  foster  thriftless  habits  among  the  poor.  Such  persons  for- 
get that  it  is  not  a  question  of  pawn-shops  or  no  pawn-shops, 
but  whether  Ave  shall  have  one  large,  reputable  loan  association, 
where  the  poor  man's  clothing  and  jewelry  shall  be  as  good  as 
the  rich  man's  real  estate  at  a  banking-house,  or  a  vast  number 
of  little  pawn-shops — those  whirlpools  in  which  the  valuables  of 
many  poor  families  are  swallowed.  Thieves  who  want  to  get  rid 
of  stolen  property,  and  thriftless  drunkards  who  go  to  the  pawn- 
broker to  disi^ose  permanently  of  their  property  at  the  highest 
prices,  will  continue  to  visit  the  pawn-shop  ;  but  persons  who  need 
a  temporary  loan  to  help  them  through  a  period  of  enforced  idle- 
ness or  sickness  will  be  greatly  benefited  by  a  wisely  managed  loan 
association. 

Seventli. — There  is  great  need  of  trained  nurses  for  the  sick. 
Hundreds  of  mothers  who  are  obliged  to  care  for  their  homes 
during  the  day,  are  sitting  at  night  by  the  bedside  of  sick  children. 
If  the  sickness  is  of  a  temporary  nature  these  periods  of  broken  rest 
and  double  duty  are  passed  without  disaster.  It  frequently  hap- 
pens, however,  that  two  or  three  childreii  are  sick  at  the  same  time. 
The  mother  is  compelled  to  work  night  and  daj'-  until  nature  gives 
Avay  and  she  breaks  down  under  the  strain.  Sickness  brings  in- 
creased expenses,  therefore  it  is  impossible  for  the  husband  to  stay 
at  home  to  take  care  of  his  family.  If  he  does  not  work  there  will 
*  Other  loan  associations  have  been  opened  since  this  paper  was  written. 


84  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

be  no  money  next  week  for  food,  rent,  and  medicine.  When  the 
physician  tells  him  that  the  end  is  near  for  wife  or  child,  then  he 
o-ives  up  his  work.  I  have  visited  homes  where  I  fonnd  the 
mother  and  all  the  children  sick,  and  if  it  had  not  been  for  the 
occasional  visit  of  a  neighbor  there  would  have  been  no  one  to  give 
a  cup  of  water  to  the  sick  or  dying.  Into  such  homes  the  trained 
nurse  comes  like  a  ministering  angel.  She  lights  a  fire  in  the  cold 
stove,  bathes  the  sick,  provides  clean  bedding,  dresses  the  little 
children,  puts  in  order  the  rooms,  and  when  the  place  looks  like 
home  again,  she  takes  from  her  basket  some  beef-tea,  a  little  jelly, 
or  some  other  tempting  morsel  for  the  sick.  The  mother,  who  has 
been  lying  hopeless  in  the  dark  bedroom,  begins  to  revive,  and 
watches  with  deep  interest  the  ministering  stranger,  and  with  wet 
eyes  says:  "God  bless  you  and  reward  you  for  what  you  have  done 
this  day."  The  nurse  not  only  aids  the  sick,  but  is  able  by  her 
counsel  to  help  the  mother  when  she  has  recovered.  The  friendly 
talks  on  housekeeping  and  the  care  of  the  children  are  often  of  the 
greatest  value.  The  nurse  also  forms  the  connecting  link  between 
the  hospitals  and  the  invalids  hidden  away  in  the  tenement-houses, 
many  of  whom  would  have  been  left  to  rot  and  finally  to  die  on 
their  filthy  beds  if  the  nurses  had  not  found  them  and  sent  them  to 
the  hospital.  The  nurse  does  not  stop  to  ask  what  the  nationality 
or  creed  of  the  sufferers  is.  The  only  recommendation  required  to 
receive  her  services  is  sickness  and  distress.  The  nurses  of  the 
Citv  Mission  are  doing  a  noble  work,  but  their  number  is  too  small 
and  they  must  be  constantly  restrained  lest  they  break  down  from 
overwork.  Here  is  a  work  which  can  be  done  at  once.  Anyone 
who  desires  to  relieve  the  suffering  poor  in  the  most  direct  and 
effective  way  can  do  it  through  a  trained  nurse.  It  would  be  a 
source  of  the  jiurest  happiness  to  many  a  man  and  woman,  when 
they  go  to  rest  in  their  beautiful  and  luxurious  homes,  to  know  that 
$600,  the  saving,  perhaps,  of  some  needless  luxury,  is  keex)ing-  a 
faithful  nurse  at  work  the  entire  year,  moistening  the  fevered  lips 
of  the  sick,  or  soothing  the  last  hours  of  the  dying-.     The  Great 


LIFE  IN  NEW  YORK  TENEMENT-HOUSES  85 

Teacher  of  men  consig-ned  Dives  to  hell,  not  because  of  erroneous 
theological  opinions,  but  because  he  neglected  the  beg-g-ar,  who  lay 
at  his  gate  full  of  sores.  Dives  is  among  us  to-day.  He  is  clothed 
in  the  finest  robes  and  fares  sumptuously  every  day.  Lazarus  is 
also  here.  He  lies  in  the  cheerless  bedroom  of  a  tenement-house, 
hungry,  sick,  and  full  of  sores.  The  two  have  been  brought  to- 
gether for  a  purpose.  The  onlj^  salvation  for  our  modern  Dives 
lies  in  Lazarus. 

Eighth. — There  is  need  of  greater  co-operation  among  all  good 
men.  When  we  see  anyone  endeavoring  to  cast  out  social  demons 
among  us,  let  us  not  forbid  him  because  he  does  not  accept  our 
creed  or  follow  our  party.  Prejudice,  narrow-mindedness,  and 
bigotry  have  too  long  stood  in  the  way  of  social  reform.  Wise 
men  must  recognize  that  whatever  is  good  is  of  God.  It  makes  no 
difference  from  what  source  it  comes.  When  all  good  men  shall 
work  together  on  the  broadest  lines  of  social  reform,  great  and 
beneficent  changes  will  be  brought  about,  and  New  York  will  con- 
tinue to  be  a  great,  happy,  and  prosperous  city. 


THE   CHILDKEN    OF    THE    POOR 
By  JACOB  A.  KIIS, 

AUTHOR  OF  "HOW  THE  OTHER  HALF  LIVES,"  ETC. 

"One  of  God's  Children"  —  Progress  in  the  Caue  of  Poor  Children  in 
New  York-The  Children's  Aid  Society— Italians  in  Mulberry  Bend— 
The  Schools— Some  Typical  Children  of  the  East  Side— Child  Popula- 
tion OF  the  Jewish  Tenements— Child  Labor  in  the  Tenements— Some 
Solutions  op  the  Problem— Ambition  among  the  School  Children— The 
Flag  in  the  Schools— Street  Gamins  and  their  Future— Boys'  Clubs 
—Little  Housekeepers— The  Story  of  "Buffalo." 

UNDER  the  lieacling  "  Just  Oue  of  God's  Children,"  one  of  the 
morning-  newspapers  tokl  the  story  not  long  ag-o  of  a  news- 
boy at  the  Brooklyn  Bridg-e,  who  fell  in  a  fit  with  his  bundle 
of  papers  under  his  arm,  and  was  carried  into  the  waiting--room  by 
the  Bridge  police.  They  sent  for  an  ambulance,  but  before  it  came 
the  boy  was  out  selling-  papers  again.  The  reporters  asked  the  little 
dark-eyed  newswoman  at  the  bridge  entrance  which  boy  it  was. 

"  Little  Maher  it  was,"  she  answered. 

"  Who  takes  care  of  him  ?  " 

"  Oh !  no  one  but  God,"  said  she,  "  and  he  is  too  busy  with 
other  folks  to  give  him  much  attention." 

Little  Maher  was  the  representative  of  a  class  that  is  happily 
growing  smaller  year  by  year  in  our  city.  It  is  altogether  likely 
that  a  little  inquiry  into  his  case  could  have  placed  the  responsi- 
bility for  his  forlorn  condition  considerably  nearer  home,  upon 
someone  who  preferred  giving  Providence  the  job  to  taking  the 
trouble  himself.     There  are  homeless  children  in  New  York.     It  is 


THE   CHILDREN  OF  THE  POOR 


87 


certain  tliat  we  shall  always  have  our  full  share.  Yet  it  is  equally 
certain  that  society  is  coming-  out  ahead  in  its  strug-g-le  with  this 
problem.  In  ten  years,  during  which  New  York  added  to  her  popu- 
lation one-fourth,  the  homelessness  of  our  streets,  taking  the  returns 
of  the  Children's  Aid  Society's  lodg- 
ingdiouses  as  the  gauge,  instead  of 
increasing  proportionally  has  de- 
creased nearly  one-fifth  ;  and  of  the 
Topsy  element,  it  may  be  set  down 
as  a  fact,  there  is  an  end. 

If  we  were  able  to  argue  from 
this  a  corresponding  improvement 
in  the  general  lot  of  the  poor,  we 
should  have  good  cause  for  con- 
gratulation. But  it  is  not  so.  The 
showing  is  due  mainly  to  the  per- 
fection of  organized  charitable  ef- 
fort, that  proceeds  nowadays  upon 
the  sensible  principle  of  putting  out 
a  lire,  viz.,  that  it  must  be  headed 
off,  not  run  down.  It  is  possible 
also  that  the  Bowery  lodging-houses 
attract  a  larger  share  of  the  half- 
grown  lads  with  their  promise  of 
greater  freedom,  which  is  not  a 
pleasant  possibility.  The  general 
situation  is  not  perceptibly  improved.  The  menace  of  the  Sub- 
merged Tenth  has  not  been  blotted  from  the  register  of  the  Pot- 
ter's Field,  and  though  the  "twenty  thousand  poor  children  who 
would  not  have  known  it  was  Christmas,"  but  for  public  notice 
to  that  effect,  be  a  benevolent  fiction,  there  are  plenty  whose  brief 
lives  have  had  little  enough  of  the  embodiment  of  Christmas 
cheer  and  good-will  in  them  to  make  the  name  seem  like  a  bitter 
mockery.-    If  indeed.  New  York  were  not  what  she  is ;   if  it  were 


sciubs  " — Katie,   who   keeps  house   in   West 
Forty-ninth   Street. 


SS  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

possible  to-morrow  to  shut  her  door  agrainst  the  immigration  of 
the  workl  and  still  maintain  the  conditions  of  to-day,  I  should 
confidently  predict  a  steady  progress  that  would  leave  little  of  the 
problem  for  the  next  generation  to  wrestle  with.  But  that  is  only 
another  way  of  saying  "if  New  York  were  not  New  York."  It 
is  because  she  is  New  York  that  in  reviewing  our  OAvn  miseries  we 
have  to  take  into  account  half  the  poverty,  the  ignorance,  and  the 
helplessness  of  the  cities  of  the  Old  World,  that  is  dumped  at  our 
door  while  the  procession  of  the  strong  and  of  the  able  moves  on. 
And  that  is  what  makes  our  problem. 

Heretofore  the  assimilation  of  these  alien  elements  has  been 
sufficiently  rapid.  Will  it  continue  so  ?  There  has  been  evidence 
lately  that  we  are  entering  upon  a  new  stage  of  metropolitan  de- 
velopment that  might  have  fresh  difficulties  on  this  score.  Anyone 
who  will  sit  an  hour  at  a  meeting  of  the  Police  Board,  for  instance, 
when  candidates  for  appointments  are  questioned  as  to  their  knowl- 
edge of  the  city,  will  discover  that  a  generation  of  young  men  has 
grown  up  about  us  who  claim,  not  New  York  as  their  birthplace, 
but  this  or  that  section  of  it — the  East  Side,  the  Hook,  Harlem,  and 
so  on,  and  outside  of  that  immediate  neighborhood,  unless  their 
emxDloyment  has  been  of  a  character  to  take  them  much  about,  know 
as  little  of  the  city  of  their  birth  as  if  the  rest  of  it  were  in  Timbuc- 
too.  These  were  the  children  of  yesterday,  when  the  population 
was,  so  to  speak,  yet  on  the  march.  To-day  we  find  it,  though  drift- 
ing still,  tarrying  longer  and  crystallizing  on  race-lines  in  settle- 
ments some  of  which  have  already  as  well-defined  limits  as  if  they 
were  walled  in,  to  all  intents  and  purposes  separate  towns.  The 
meaning  of  this  is  that  our  social  fabric  is  stiffening  into  more  per- 
manent forms.  Does  it  imply  also  that  with  its  elasticity  it  is  los- 
ing its  old  power  of  assimilation,  of  digestion  ? 

I  think  not.  The  evidence  is  all  to  the  contrary.  Its  vitality 
seems  to  me  not  only  unimpaired,  but  growing  plainly  stronger  as 
greater  claims  are  made  upon  it  by  the  influx  of  races  foreign  alike 
of  speech,  of  tradition,  and  of  sentiment.     Fresh  problems  are  pre- 


THE   CHILDREN  OF   THE  POOR  89 

sented,  fresh  troubles  foreshadowed,  fresh  prejudices  aroused  only 
to  receive  iu  their  turn  the  same  orderly,  logical,  and  simple  solu- 
tion that  discovers  all  alarm  to  have  been  groundless.  Yesterday  it 
was  the  swarthy  Italian,  to-day  the  Russian  Jew  that  excited  our 
distrust;  to-morrow  it  may  be  the  Arab  or  the  Greek.  All  alike 
they  have  taken,  or  are  taking,  their  places  in  the  ranks  of  our  so- 
cial phalanx,  pushing  upward  from  the  bottom  with  steady  effort,  as 
I  believe  they  will  continue  to  do,  unless  failure  to  provide  them  with 
proper  homes  arrests  the  process.  The  slum  tenement  bears  to  it 
the  same  relation  as  the  effect  the  rags  of  an  old  tramp  are  said  to 
have  upon  the  young  idler  in  his  company.  He  has  only  to  wear 
them  to  lose  all  ambition  and  become  himself  a  tramp ;  the  stamp 
is  on  him.  But  in  the  general  advance  the  children  are  the  moving- 
force,  the  link  between  the  past  that  had  no  future  and  the  present 
that  accounts  no  task  too  great  in  the  dawning  consciousness  of  a 
proud  manhood.  Their  feeble  hands  roll  away  in  play  the  stone 
before  which  the  statecraft  of  our  wise  day  stood  aghast.  The  one 
immigrant  who  does  not  keep  step,  who,  having  fallen  out  of  the 
ranks,  has  been  ordered  to  the  rear,  is  the  Chinaman,  who  brought 
neither  family  nor  children  to  push  him  ahead.  He  left  them  be- 
hind that  he  might  not  become  an  American,  and  by  the  standard 
he  himself  set  up  he  has  been  judged. 

I  recall,  not  without  amusement,  one  of  the  early  experiences  of 
a  committee  with  which  I  was  trying  to  relieve  some  of  the  child 
misery  in  the  East  Side  tenements  by  providing  an  outing  for  the 
very  poorest  of  the  little  ones,  who  might  otherwise  have  been  over- 
looked. In  our  anxiety  to  make  our  little  charges  as  present- 
able as  possible,  it  seems  we  had  succeeded  so  well  as  to  arouse  a 
suspicion  in  our  friends  at  the  other  end  of  the  line  that  something- 
was  wrong,  either  with  us  or  with  the  poor  of  which  the  patrician 
youngsters  in  new  frocks  and  with  clean  faces,  that  came  to  them, 
were  representatives.  They  wrote  to  us  that  they  were  in  the  field 
for  the  "  slum  children,"  and  slum  children  they  wanted.  It  hap- 
pened that  their  letter  came  just  as  we  had  before  us  two  little 


90 


THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  PITIES 


lads  from  the  Mulberry  Street  Bend,  ragged,  dirty,  imlcempt,  and 
altogether  a  sight  to  see.  Our  wardrobe  was  running  low,  and  we 
werrat  our  wits'  end  how  to  make  these  come  up  to  our  standard. 
We  sat  looking  at  each  other  after  we  had  heard  the  letter  read,  all 


The  Late  Charles  Loring  Brace,    Founder  of  the   Children's  Aid   Society. 

thinking  the  same  thing,  until  the  most  courageoiTS  said  it :  "Send 
them  as  they  are."  Well,  we  did,  and  waited  rather  breathlessly 
for  the  verdict.  It  came,  with  the  children,  in  a  note  by  return 
train,  that  said  :  "  Not  that  kind,  please ! "  And  after  that  we  were 
allowed  to  have  things  our  own  Avay. 

The  two  little  fellows  were  Italians.     In  justice  to  our  fright- 


THE  CHILDREN  OF  THE  POOR  91 

ened  friends,  it  should  be  said  that  it  was  uot  their  nationality,  but 
their  rags,  to  which  they  objected ;  but  not  very  many  seasons  have 
passed  since  the  crowding-  of  the  black-eyed  brigade  of  "  guinnies  " 
as  they  were  contemptuously  dubbed,  in  ever-increasing  numbers 
into  the  ragged  schools  and  the  kindergartens,  was  watched  with 
regret  and  alarm  by  the  teachers,  as  by  many  others  who  had  no 
better  cause.  The  event  proved  that  the  children  were  the  real 
teachers.  They  had  a  more  valuable  lesson  to  impart  than  they 
came  to  learn,  and  it  has  been  a  salutary  one.  To-day  they  are 
gladly  welcomed.  Their  sunny  temper,  which  no  hovel  is  dreary 
enough,  no  hardship  has  power  to  cloud,  has  made  them  universal 
favorites,  and  the  discovery  has  been  made  by  their  teachers  that 
as  the  crowds  pressed  harder  their  school-rooms  have  marvellously 
expanded,  until  they  embrace  within  their  walls  an  unsuspected 
multitude,  even  many  a  slum  tenement  itself,  cellar,  "  stoop,"  attic, 
and  all.  Every  lesson  of  cleanliness,  of  order,  and  of  English 
taught  at  the  school  is  reflected  into  some  wretched  home,  and  re- 
hearsed there  as  far  as  the  limited  opportunities  will  allow.  No  dem- 
onstration with  soap  and  Avater  upon  a  dirty  little  face  but  widens 
the  sphere  of  these  chief  promoters  of  education  in  the  slums. 
"  By'm  by,"  said  jDoor  crippled  Pietro  to  me,  with  a  sober  look,  as 
he  labored  away  on  his  writing  lesson,  holding  down  the  paper 
with  his  maimed  hand,  "  I  learn  t'  make  an  Englis'  letter ;  maybe 
my  fader  he  learn  too."  I  had  my  doubts  of  the  father.  He  sat 
watching  Pietro  with  a  pride  in  the  achievement  that  was  clearly 
proportionate  to  the  struggle  it  cost,  and  mirrored  in  his  own  face 
every  grimace  and  contortion  the  progress  of  education  caused  the 
boy.  "  Si !  si!  "  he  nodded  eagerly  ;  "  Pietro  he  good-a  boy  ;  make 
Englis',  Englis' ! "  and  he  made  a  flourish  with  his  clay-pipe,  as  if 
he  too  were  making  the  English  letter  that  was  the  object  of  their 
common  veneration. 

Perhaps  it  is  as  much  his  growing  and  well-founded  distrust  of 
the  middle-man,  whose  unresisting  victim  he  has  heretofore  been, 
and  his  need  of  some  other  link  to  connect  him  with  the  English- 


92  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

speaking-  world  that  surronuds  him,  as  any  i^ersonal  interest  in 
book-learning-,  that  impels  the  illiterate  Italian  to  bring-  his  boy  to 
school  early  and  see  that  he  attends  it.  Whatever  his  motive,  the 
effect  is  to  demonstrate  in  a  striking-  way  the  truth  of  the  observa- 
tion that  real  reform  of  poverty  and  ig-norance  must  beg-in  with  the 
children.  In  his  case,  at  all  events,  the  seed  thus  sown  bears  some 
fruit  in  the  present  as  well  as  in  the  coming-  g-eneration  of  toilers. 
The  little  ones,  with  their  new  standards  and  new  ambitions,  become 
in  a  very  real  sense  missionaries  of  the  slums,  whose  work  of  regen- 
eration begins  with  their  parents.  They  are  continually  fetched 
away  from  school  by  the  mother  or  father  to  act  as  interpreters  or 
go-betweens  in  all  the  affairs  of  daily  life,  to  be  conscientiously 
returned  within  the  hour  stipulated  by  the  teacher  who  offers  no 
objection  to  this  sort  of  interruption,  knowing  it  to  be  the  best  con- 
dition of  her  own  success.  One  cannot  helj)  the  hope  that  the  -po- 
sition  of  trust  in  which  the  children  are  thus  placed  may,  in  some 
measure,  help  to  mitigate  their  home-hardshiijs.  From  their  birth 
they  have  little  else,  though  Italian  parents  are  rarely  cruel  in  the 
sense  of  abusing  their  offspring.  It  is  the  home  itself  that  consti- 
tutes their  chief  hardship.  Theirs  are  the  poorest  tenements,  the 
filthiest  hovels  in  the  city.  It  is  only  when  his  years  offer  the  boy 
an  opportunity  of  escape  to  the  street,  that  a  ray  of  sunlight  falls 
into  his  life  ;  in  his  back-yard  or  in  his  alley  it  seldom  finds  him 
out.  Thenceforward  most  of  his  time  is  spent  there,  until  the 
school  claims  him.  Since  the  sewing-machine  found  its  way,  with 
the  sweater's  mortgage,  into  the  Italian  slums  also,  his  sweet-faced 
sister  has  been  robbed  to  a  large  extent  of  even  the  freedom  of  the 
dumj),  where  she  used  to  pick  cinders  for  her  mother's  kitchen 
fire,  and  she  has  taken  her  place  among  the  wage-earners  w^hen 
not  on  the  school-bench.  Sickness,  unless  it  be  mortal,  is  no  ex- 
cuse from  the  drudgery  of  the  tenement.  When,  recently,  one  lit- 
tle Italian  girl,  hardly  yet  in  her  teens,  stayed  away  from  her  class 
in  the  Mott  Street  Industrial  School  so  long  that  her  teacher  went 
to  her  home  to  look  her  up,  she  found  the  child  in  a  high  fever, 


THE    MOTT    STREET    BARRACKS. 


THE   CHILDREN  OF   THE  POOR  95 

ill  bed,  sewing  on  coats  with  swollen  eyes,  tliough  barelj^  able  to 
sit  up. 

But  neither  poverty  nor  abuse  have  power  to  discourage  the 
child  of  Italy ;  for  though  he  be  born  to  the  succession  of  the  White 
House,  if  fate  and  the  genius  of  politics  so  will  it,  ho  is  in  looks,  in 
temper,  and  in  speech,  when  among  his  own,  as  much  an  Italian  as 
liis  father,  who  could  not  even  hold  real  estate  if  there  were  any 
chance  of  his  getting  any.  His  nickname  he  pockets  with  a  grin 
that  has  in  it  no  thought  of  the  dagger  and  the  revenge  that  come 
to  solace  his  after-years.  Only  the  prospect  of  immediate  punish- 
ment eclipses  his  spirits  for  the  moment.  While  the  teacher  of  the 
sick  little  girl  was  telling  me  her  pitiful  story  in  the  school,  a  char- 
acteristic group  appeared  on  the  stairway.  Three  little  Italian  cul- 
prits in  the  grasp  of  Nellie,  the  tall  and  slender  Irish  girl  who  was 
the  mentor  of  her  class  for  the  day.  They  had  been  arrested  "  fur 
fightin',''  she  briefly  explained  as  she  dragged  them  by  the  collar 
toward  the  iirincipal,  who  just  then  came  out  to  inquire  the  cause 
of  the  rumpus,  and  thrust  them  forward  to  receive  sentence.  'The 
three,  none  of  whom  was  over  eight  years  old,  evidently  felt  that 
they  were  in  the  power  of  an  enemy  from  whom  no  mercy  was  to  be 
expected,  and  made  no  appeal  for  any.  One  scowled  defiance.  He 
was  evidently  the  injured  party. 

"  He  hit-a  me  a  clip  on  de  jaw,"  he  said  in  his  defence,  in  the 
dialect  of  Mott  Street,  with  a  slight  touch  of  "  the  Bend."  The 
aggressor,  a  heavy -browed  little  ruffian,  hung  back  with  a  dreary 
howl,  knuckling  his  eyes  with  a  pair  of  fists  that  were  nearly  black. 
The  third  and  youngest  was  in  a  state  of  bewilderment  that  was 
most  ludicrous.  He  only  knew  that  he  had  received  a  kick  on  the 
back  and  had  struck  out  in  self-defence,  when  he  was  seized  and 
dragged  away  a  prisoner.  He  was  so  dirty — school  had  only  just 
begun  and  there  had  been  no  time  for  the  regular  inspection — that 
he  was  sentenced  on  the  spot  to  be  taken  down  and  washed,  while 
the  other  two  were  led  away  to  the  iJrincipal's  desk.  All  three 
went  out  howling. 


96  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

Pei-liaps  of  all  the  little  life-stories  of  poor  Italian  children  I 
have  come  across  in  the  course  of  years— and  they  are  many  and 
sad,  most  of  them — none  comes  nearer  to  the  hard  every-clay  fact 
of  those  dreary  tenements  than  that  of  my  little  friend  Pietro  of 
whom  I  spoke,  exceptional  as  was  his  own  heavy  misfortune  and  its 
effect  upon  the  boy.  I  met  him  first  in  the  Mulberry  Street  police 
station,  where  he  was  interpreting  the  defence  in  a  shooting-  case, 
having-  come  in  with  the  crowd  from  Jersey  Street,  where  the  thing 
had  happened  at  his  own  door.  With  his  rags,  his  dirty  bare  feet, 
and  his  shock  of  tousled  hair,  lie  seemed  to  fit  in  so  entirely  there 
of  all  places,  and  took  so  naturall}^  to  the  ways  of  the  police  station, 
that  he  might  have  escaped  my  notice  altogether  but  for  his  maimed 
hand  and  his  oddly  grave,  yet  eager  face,  which  no  smile  ever 
crossed  despite  his  thirteen  years.  Of  both,  his  story,  when  I  after- 
ward came  to  know  it,  gave  me  full  explanation.  He  was  the  oldest 
sou  of  a  laborer,  not  "  borned  here  "  as  the  rest  of  his  sisters  and 
brothers.  There  were  four  of  them,  six  in  the  famil}^  besides  him- 
self, as  he  put  it :  "2  sisters,  2  broders,  1  fader,  1  mother,"  subsist- 
ing on  an  unsteady  maximum  income  of  $9  a  week,  the  rent  taking- 
always  the  earnings  of  one  week  in  four.  The  home  thus  dearly 
l^aid  for  was  a  wretched  room  with  a  dark  alcove  for  a  bed-cham- 
ber, in  one  of  the  vile  old  barracks  that  still  preserve  to  Jersey 
Street  the  memorv  of  its  former  bad  eminence  as  among  the  worst 
of  the  city's  slums.  Pietro  had  gone  to  the  Sisters'  school,  black- 
ing boots  in  a  haphazard  sort  of  way  in  his  ofi'-hours,  until  the  year 
before,  upon  his  mastering  the  alphabet,  his  education  was  consid- 
ered to  have  sufficiently  advanced  to  warrant  his  graduating  into 
the  ranks  of  the  family  wage-earners,  that  were  sadly  in  need  of  re- 
cruiting. A  steady  job  of  "  shinin'  "  was  found  for  him  in  an  Eighth 
Ward  saloon,  and  that  afternoon,  just  before  Christmas,  he  came 
home  from  school  and,  putting  his  books  away  on  the  shelf  for  the 
next  in  order  to  use,  ran  across  Broadway  full  of  joyous  anticipa- 
tion of  his  new  dignity  in  an  independent  job.  He  did  not  see  the 
street-car  until  it  was  fairly  upon  him,  and  then  it  was  too  late. 


THE   CHILDREN  OF   THE  POOR 


97 


They  thought  he  was  killed,  but  he  was  only  crippled  for  life, 
Wheu,  after  many  months,  ho  came  out  of  the  hospital,  where  the 
company  had  paid  his  board  and  posed  as  doing-  a  generous  thing, 
his  bright  smile  was  gone  ;  his  shining  was  at  an  end,  and  with  it 
his  career  as  it  had  been  marked  out  for  him.  He  must  needs  take 
up  something  new,  and  he  was  bending  all  his  energies,  when  I  met 


'*■'?R^.^S>JS. 


2  a.m.   in  the  Delivery  Room  in  the   "  Sun  "  Office. 


him,  toward  learning  to  make  the  "Englis'  letter  "  with  a  degree  of 
proficiency  that  would  justify  the  hope  of  his  doing  something 
somewhere  at  some  time  to  make  up  for  what  he  had  lost.  It  was 
a  far-off  possibility  yet.  With  the  same  end  in  view,  probably,  he 
Avas  taking  nightly  writing  lessons  in  his  mother-tongue  from  one 
of  the  perambulating  schoolmasters  who  circulate  in  the  Italian 
colony  peddling  education  cheap  in  lots  to  suit.  In  his  sober,  sub- 
missive way  he  was  content  with  the  prospect.     It  had  its  compen- 


98  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

satious.  The  boys  who  used  to  Avorry  him  now  let  him  alone. 
"  When  they  see  this,"  he  said,  holding  up  his  scarred  and  mis- 
shapen arm,  "  they  don't  strike  me  no  more."  Then  there  was  his 
fourteen  months'  old  baby  brother,  wdio  w^as  beginning  to  walk  and 
could  almost  "  make  a  letter."  Pietro  was  much  concerned  about 
his  education,  anxious  evidently  that  he  should  one  day  take  his 
place.  "I  take  him  to  school  sometime,"  he  said,  piloting  him 
across  the  floor  and  talking  softly  to  the  child  in  his  own  melo- 
dious Italian.     I  watched  his  grave,  unchanging  face, 

"  Pietro,"  I  said,  with  a  sudden  yearning  to  know,  "  did  you  ever 

laugh  ?  " 

The  boy  glanced  from  the  baby  to  me  with  a  wistful  look. 

"  I  did  wonst,"  he  said,  quietly,  and  went  on  his  way.  And  I 
would  gladly  have  forgotten  that  I  ever  asked  the  question,  even 
as  Pietro  had  forgotten  his  laugh. 

I  said  that  the  Italians  do  not  often  abuse  their  children  down- 
right ;  but  poverty  and  ignorance  are  fearful  allies  in  the  homes  of 
the  poor  against  defenceless  childhood,  even  without  the  child- 
beating  fiend.  Two  cases  which  I  encountered  in  the  East  Side 
tenements  this  past  summer  show  how  the  combination  works  at 
its  worst.  Without  a  doubt  they  are  typical  of  very  many,  though 
I  hope  that  few  come  quite  up  to  their  standard.  The  one  was 
the  case  of  little  Carmen,  who  at  this  writing  lay  between  life  and 
death  in  the  New  York  Hospital,  the  special  care  of  the  Society 
for  the  Prevention  of  Cruelty  to  Children.  One  of  the  summer 
corps  doctors  found  her  in  a  Mott  Street  tenement,  within  a  stone's- 
throw  of  the  Health  Department's  office,  suffering  from  a  wasting 
disease  that  could  only  be  combated  b}^  the  most  careful  nursing. 
He  put  her  case  into  the  hands  of  the  King's  Daughters  Committee 
that  followed  in  the  steps  of  the  doctors,  and  it  was  then  that  I  saw 
her.  She  lay  in  a  little  back-room,  up  two  flights,  and  giving  upon 
a  narrow  yard  where  it  was  always  twilight.  The  room  was  filthy 
and  close,  and  entirely  devoid  of  furniture,  with  the  exception  of  a 
rickety  stool,  a  slop-pail,  and  a  rusty  old  stove,  one  end  of  which 


THE   CHILDREN  OF  THE  POOR  99 

was  propped  up  Avitli  bricks.  Carmen's  bed  was  a  board  laid  across 
the  top  of  a  barrel  and  a  trunk  set  on  end.  I  could  not  describe,  if 
I  would,  the  condition  of  the  child  when  she  was  raised  from  the 
mess  of  straw  and  rags  in  which  she  lay.  The  sight  unnerved  even 
the  nurse,  who  had  seen  little  else  than  such  scenes  all  summer. 
Loathsome  bed-sores  had  attacked  the  wasted  little  body,  and  in 
truth  Carmen  was  more  dead  than  alive.  But  when,  shocked  and 
disgusted,  we  made  preparations  for  her  removal  with  all  speed  to 
the  hospital,  the  parents  objected  and  refused  to  let  us  take  her 
away.  They  had  to  be  taken  into  court  and  forced  to  surrender  the 
child  under  warrant  of  law,  though  it  was  clearly  the  little  suffer- 
er's only  chance  for  life,  and  only  the  slenderest  of  chances  at  that. 

Carmen  was  the  victim  of  the  stubborn  ignorance  that  dreads 
the  hospital  and  the  doctor  above  the  discomfort  of  the  dirt  and 
darkness  and  suffering  that  are  its  every-day  attendants.  Her  par- 
ents were  no  worse  than  the  Monroe  Street  mother  who  refused  to 
let  the  health  officer  vaccinate  her  baby,  because  her  crippled  boy, 
with  one  leg  an  inch  shorter  than  the  other,  had  "  caught  it  " — the 
leg,  that  is  to  say — from  his  vaccination.  She  knew  it  was  so,  and 
with  ignorance  of  that  stamp  there  is  no  other  argument  than  force. 
But  another  element  entered  into  the  case  of  a  sick  Essex  Street 
baby.  The  tenement  would  not  let  it  recover  from  a  bad  attack  of 
scarlet  fever,  and  the  parents  would  not  let  it  be  taken  to  the  coun- 
try or  to  the  sea-shore,  despite  all  efforts  and  entreaties.  When 
their  motive  came  out  at  last,  it  proved  to  be  a  mercenary  one. 
They  were  behind  with  the  rent,  and  as  long  as  they  had  a  sick 
child  in  the  house  the  landlord  could  not  \)\\i  them  out.  Sick,  the 
baby  was  to  them  a  source  of  income,  at  all  events  a  bar  to  expense, 
and  in  that  way  so  much  capital.  Well,  or  away,  it  would  put  them 
at  the  mercy  of  the  rent-collector  at  once.  So  they  chose  to  let  it 
suffer.  The  parents  were  Jews,  a  fact  that  emi^hasizes  the  share 
borne  by  desperate  poverty  in  the  transaction,  for  the  family  tie  is 
notoriousl}''  strong  among  their  people. 

How  strong  is  this  attachment  to  home  and  kindred  that  makes 


100  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

tlio  Jew  cliug  to  the  humblest  hearth  and  gather  his  chihlren  and 
liis  chihU-en's  chihlren  about  it,  though  grinding  poverty  leave 
thcni  only  a  bare  crust  to  share,  I  saw  in  the  case  of  little  Jette 
Brodsky,  who  strayed  away  from  her  own  door,  looking  for  her 
papa.  They  were  strangers,  and  ignorant  and  poor,  so  that  weeks 
went  by  before  they  could  make  their  loss  known  and  get  a  hear- 
ing, and  meanwhile  Jette,  who  had  been  picked  up  and  taken  to 
Police  Headquarters,  had  been  hidden  away  in  an  asylum,  given 
another  name  when  nobody  came  to  claim  her,  and  had  been  quite 
forgotten.  But  in  the  two  years  that  passed  before  she  was  found 
at  last,  her  empty  chair  stood  ever  by  her  father's  at  the  family 
board,  and  no  Sabbath  eve  but  heard  his  prayer  for  the  restoration 
of  their  lost  one.  The  tenement  that  has  power  to  turn  purest  gold 
to  dross  digs  a  pit  for  the  Jew  through  this,  his  strongest  virtue. 
In  its  atmosphere  it  becomes  his  curse  by  helping  to  crowd  his 
lodgings  to  the  point  of  official  intervention.  Then  follow  orders 
to  "  reduce  "  the  number  of  tenants,  that  mean  increased  rent  which 
the  family  cannot  pay,  or  the  breaking  up  of  the  home.  An  appeal 
to  avert  such  a  calamity  came  to  the  Board  of  Health  recently  from 
one  of  the  refugee  tenements.  The  tenant  was  a  man  wdtli  a  house- 
ful of  children,  too  full  for  the  official  scale  as  applied  to  the  flat, 
and  his  plea  was  backed  by  the  influence  of  his  only  friend  in  need 
— the  family  undertaker.  There  was  something  so  cruelly  suggest- 
ive in  the  idea  that  the  laugh  it  raised  died  without  an  echo. 

When  it  comes  to  the  child  population  of  the  poor  Jewish  tene- 
ments, we  have  at  last  something  definite  to  reckon  with.  We  know 
from  the  police  census  that  there  were,  in  1890,  160,708  children  \xi\- 
der  five  years  in  all  the  tenements  of  the  city,  which  is  not  saying 
that  there  were  so  many  poor  children  by  a  good  many  thousand. 
But  how  many  of  them  were  Italians,  how  many  Bohemians,  how 
many  of  Irish  or  German  descent,  we  are  yet  left  to  guess.  It  is 
difi"eront  with  these.  A  census,  that  was  taken  for  a  special  pur- 
pose, of  the  Jews  in  the  East  Side  sweaters'  district,  several  years 
ago,  gave  a  total  of  23,J:05  children  under  six  years,  and  21,285 


THE  CHILDREN  OF   THE  POOR 


101 


between  six  and  fourteen,  in  a  population  of  something-  over  a 
hundred  and  eleven  thousand  that  inhabited  forty-five  streets  in 
the  Seventh,  Tenth,  and  Thirteenth  Wards.     All  of  these  were  for- 


(^s(W.rVlck5= 


Pietro  Learning  to   MaUe  an  Englis'   Letter. 

eiq-ners,  most  of  them  Paissian,  Polish,  and  Eoumanian  Jews,  and 
they  are  by  all  odds  the  hardest-worked  and,  barring-  the  Bohe- 
mians, as  a  class,  the  poorest  of  our  people.  Accordin.g  to  the 
record,  scarce  one-third  of  the  heads  of  families  had  become  natu- 
ralized citizens,  though  the  average  of  their  stay  in  the  United 
States  was  between  nine  and  ten  years.     The  very  language  of  our 


IQ2  THE  rOOR  ly-  GREAT   CITIES 

country  was  to  them  a  strang-e  tongue,  understood  and  spoken  by 
only  15,837  of  the  fifty  thousand  and  odd  adults  enumerated. 
Seven  thousand  of  the  rest  spoke  only  German,  five  thousand  Rus- 
sian, and  over  twenty-one  thousand  could  only  make  themselves 
understood  to  each  other,  never  to  the  world  around  them,  in  the 
strange  jargon  that  passes  for  Hebrew  on  the  East  Side,  but  is 
really  a  mixture  of  a  dozen  known  dialects  and  tongues,  and  of 
some  that  were  never  known  or  heard  anywhere  else.  In  the  cen- 
sus it  is  down  as  just  what  it  is— jargon,  and  nothing  else. 

Here,  then,  are  conditions  as  unfavorable  to  the  satisfactory, 
even  safe,  development  of  child  life  in  the  chief  American  city,  as 
could  well  be  imagined,  more  unfavorable  even  than  with  the  Bo- 
hemians, who  have  at  least  their  faith  in  common  with  us,  if  safety 
lies  in  the  merging  through  the  rising-  generation  of  the  discordant 
elements  into  a  common  harmony.  A  community  set  apart,  set 
sharply  against  the  rest  in  every  clashing  interest,  social  and  in- 
dustrial ;  foreign  in  language,  in  faith,  and  in  tradition ;  repaying- 
dislike  with  distrust ;  expanding  under  the  new  relief  from  oppres- 
sion in  the  unpopular  qualities  of  greed  and  contentiousness  fos- 
tered by  ages  of  tyranny  unresistingly  borne.  But  what  says  the 
record  of  this  ?  That  of  the  sixty  thousand  children,  including  the 
fifteen  thousand  young  men  and  women  over  fourteen  who  earn  a 
large  share  of  the  money  that  pays  for  rent  and  food,  and  the 
twenty -three  thousand  toddlers  under  six  years,  fully  one-third  go 
to  school.  Deducting  the  two  extremes,  little  more  than  a  thou- 
sand children  of  between  six  and  fourteen  years,  that  is,  of  school 
age,  were  put  down  as  receiving  no  instruction  at  the  time  the  cen- 
sus was  taken  ;  nor  is  it  at  all  likely  that  this  condition  was  perma- 
nent in  the  case  of  the  greater  number  of  these.  The  poorest  He- 
brew knows — the  poorer  he  is,  the  better  he  knows  it — that 
knowledge  is  power,  and  power  as  the  means  of  getting  on  in  the 
world  that  has  spurned  him  so  long,  is  what  his  soul  yearns  for. 
He  lets  no  opportunity  slip  to  obtain  it.  Day-  and  night-schools 
are  crowded  with  his  children,  who  learn  rapidly  and  with  ease. 


THE  CHILDREN  OF  THE  POOR  103 

Every  synagog-ue,  every  second  rear  tenement  or  dark  back-yard, 
has  its  school  and  its  school-master,  with  his  scourge  to  intercept 
those  who  might  otherwise  escape.  In  the  census  there  are  put 
down  251  Jewish  teachers  as  living  in  these  tenements,  nearly  all  of 
whom  probably  conduct  such  schools,  so  that,  as  the  children  form 
always  more  than  one-half  *  of  the  population  in  the  Jewish  quar- 
ter, the  evidence  is,  after  all,  that  even  here,  with  the  tremendous 
iupour  of  a  destitute,  ignorant  people,  the  cause  of  progress  along 
the  safe  line  is  holding  its  own. 

It  is  true  that  these  tenement  schools  which  absorb  several 
thousand  children  are  not  what  they  might  be  from  a  sanitary  point 
of  view.  It  is  also  true  that  heretofore  they  have  mainly  been  de- 
voted to  teaching  East-Side  Hebrew  and  the  Talmud.  But  to  the 
one  evil  the  health  authorities  have  recently  been  aroused ;  of  the 
other,  the  wise  and  patriotic  men  who  are  managing  the  Baron  de 
Hirscli  charity  are  making  a  useful  handle  by  gathering  the  teach- 
ers in  and  setting  them  to  learn  English.  Their  new  knowledge 
will  soon  be  reflected  in  their  teaching,  and  the  Hebrew  schools  be- 
come primary  classes  in  the  system  of  public  education.  The  school 
in  a  Hester  Street  tenement  that  is  shown  in  the  picture  is  a  fair 
specimen  of  its  kind — by  no  means  one  of  the  worst — and  so  is  the 
back-yard  behind  it,  that  serves  as  the  children's  playground,  with 
its  dirty  mud-puddles,  its  slop-barrels  and  broken  flags,  and  its  foul 
tenement-house  surroundings.  Both  fall  in  well  with  the  home 
lives  and  environment  of  the  unhappy  little  wretches  whose  daily 
horizon  they  limit.  Missionaries  though  they  truly  be,  like  their 
Italian  playmates,  in  a  good  cause,  they  have  not  even  the  satisfac- 
tion of  knowing  it.  Born  to  toil  and  trouble,  they  claim  their 
heritage  early  and  part  with  it  late.  What  time  they  do  not  spend 
on  the  school-bench  is  soon  put  to  use  in  the  home  workshop. 
When,  in  the  midnight  hour,  the  noise  of  the  sewing-machine  was 
stilled  at  last,  I  have  gone  the  rounds  with  the  sanitary  police  and 
counted  often  four,  five,  and  even  six  of  the  little  ones  in  a  single 

*  Fifty-four  per  cent,  in  the  census. 


104 


THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 


bed,  sometimes  a  sliake-dowii  ou  the  hard  floor,  often  a  pile  of  half- 
finished  clothing  brought  liome  from  the  sweater,  in  the  stufiy 
rooms  of  their  tenements.  In  one  I  visited  very  lately,  the  only  bed 
was  occupied  by  the  entire  family,  lying  lengthwise  and  crosswise, 
literally  in  layers,  three  children  at  the  feet,  all  except  a  boy  of  ten 

or  twelve,  for  whom  there  was 
no  room.  He  slept  with  his 
clothes  on  to  keep  him  warm, 
in  a  pile  of  rags  just  inside 
the  door.  It  seemed  to  me  im- 
possible that  families  of  chil- 
dren could  be  raised  at  all  in 
such  dens  as  I  had  my  daily 
and  nightly  walks  in.  And  yet 
the  vital  statistics  and  all  close 
observation  agree  in  allotting 
to  these  Jews  even  an  unusual 
degree  of  good  health.  Their 
freedom  from  enfeebling  vices 
and  the  marvellous  vitality  of 
the  race  must  account  for  this. 
Their  homes,  or  their  food, 
which  is  frequently  of  the 
worst  because  cheapest,  as- 
suredly do  not. 

I  spoke  of  the  labor  done  in 
tenement  homes.  Like  nearly 
every  other  question  that  has 
a  bearing  on  the  condition  of  the  poor  and  of  the  wage-earners, 
this  one  of  the  child  home-workers  has  receutly  been  uj)  for  dis- 
cussion. The  first  official  contribution  to  it  was  a  surprise,  and 
not  least  to  the  health  officers  Avho  furnished  it.  According  to 
the  tenement-house  census,  in  the  entire  mass  of  nearly  a  million 
and  a  quarter  of  tenants,  only  two  hundred  and  forty-nine  chil- 


The  Backstairs  to  Learning. 

(Entrance  to  a  Talmud  School  In  Hester  Street.) 


THE   CHILDREN  OF   THE  POOR  105 

dreu  under  fourteen  years  of  age  were  found  at  work  in  living 
rooms  by  the  Sanitary  Police.  To  anyone  acquainted  with  the 
ordinary  aspect  of  tenement  life  the  statement  seemed  ^preposterous, 
and  there  are  some  valid  reasons  for  believing-  that  the  policemen 
missed  rather  more  than  they  found.  They  were  seeking  that 
which,  when  found,  would  furnish  proof  of  law-breaking  against  the 
parent  or  employer,  a  fact  of  which  these  were  fully  aware.  Hence 
their  coming,  uniformed  and  in  search  of  children,  into  a  tenement 
where  such  were  at  work,  could  scarcely  fail  to  give  those  a  holi- 
day who  were  not  big  enough  to  be  palmed  off  as  fifteen  at  least. 
Nevertheless,  I  suspect  the  policemen  Avere  much  nearer  right  than 
may  be  readily  believed.  Their  census  took  no  account  of  the 
tenement  factory  in  the  back-yard,  but  only  of  the  living-rooms,  and 
it  was  made  chiefly  during  school  hours.  Most  of  the  little  slaves, 
as  of  those  older  in  years,  were  found  in  the  East  Side  tenements 
just  spoken  of,  where  the  work  often  only  fairly  begins  after  the 
factory  has  shut  down  for  the  day  and  the  stores  have  released  their 
army  of  child-laborers.  Had  the  policemen  gone  their  rounds  after 
dark,  they  would  have  found  a  different  state  of  affairs.  The  record 
of  school-attendance  in  the  district  shows  that  forty-seven  attended 
day-school  for  every  one  who  went  to  night-school. 

The  same  holds  good  with  the  Bohemians,  who  are,  if  anything, 
more  desperately  poor  than  the  Russian  Jews,  and  have  proportion- 
ally greater  need  of  their  children's  labor  to  help  eke  out  the  family 
income.  The  testimony  of  the  principal  of  the  Industrial  School  in 
East  Seventy-third  Street,  for  instance,  where  there  are  some  three 
hundred  and  odd  Bohemian  children  in  daily  attendance,  is  to  the 
effect  that  the  mothers  "  do  not  want  them  to  stay  a  minute  after 
three  o'clock,"  and  if  they  do,  verj^  soon  come  to  claim  them,  so 
that  they  may  take  up  their  places  at  the  bench,  rolling  cigars  or 
stripping  tobacco-leaves  for  the  father,  while  the  evening  meal  is 
being  got  ready.  The  Bohemian  has  his  own  cause  for  the  reserve 
that  keeps  him  a  stranger  in  a  strange  land  after  living  half  his 
life  among  us  ;  his  reception  has  not  been  altogether  hospitable,  and 


-[no  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

it  is  not  only  his  hard  language  aud  his  sullen  moods  that  are  to 
blame.  Yet,  even  he  will  "  drive  his  children  to  school  with  sticks," 
and  the  teacher  has  only  to  threaten  the  intractable  ones  with  be- 
ing sent  home  to  bring  them  'round.  And  yet,  it  is  not  that  they 
are  often  cruelly  treated  there.  The  Bohemian  simply  proposes 
that  his  child  shall  enjoy  the  advantages  that  are  denied  him — 
denied  partly  perha^js  because  of  his  refusal  to  accept  them,  but 
still  from  his  point  of  view  denied.  And  he  takes  a  short  cut  to  that 
goal  by  sending  the  child  to  school.  The  result  is  that  the  old 
Bohemian  disappears  in  the  first  generation  born  upon  our  soil. 
His  temper  remains  to  some  extent,  it  is  true.  He  still  has  his 
surly  streaks,  refuses  to  sing  or  recite  in  school  when  the  teacher 
or  something  else  does  not  suit  him,  and  can  never  be  driven  where 
yet  he  is  easily  led ;  but  as  he  graduates  into  the  public  school  and 
is  thrown  there  into  contact  with  the  children  of  more  light-hearted 
nationalities,  he  grows  into  that  which  his  father  would  have  long 
since  become,  had  he  not  got  a  wrong  start,  a  \oydl  American, 
proud  of  his  country,  and  a  useful  citizen. 

But  when  the  State  has  done  its  best  by  keeping  the  child  at 
school,  at  least  a  part  of  the  day — and  it  has  not  done  that  until 
New  York  has  been  provided  with  a  Truant  Home  to  give  effect  to 
its  present  laws — the  real  kernel  of  this  question  of  child  labor  re- 
mains untouched  yet.  The  trouble  is  not  so  much  that  the  children 
have  to  work  early  as  with  the  sort  of  work  they  have  to  do.  It  is, 
all  of  it,  of  a  kind  that  leaves  them,  grown  to  manhood  and  woman- 
hood, just  where  it  found  them,  knowing  no  more  and  therefore 
less  than  when  they  began,  and  with  the  years  that  should  have 
prepai'ed  them  for  life's  work  gone  in  hopeless  aud  profitless 
drudgery.  How  large  a  share  of  the  responsibility  for  this  failure 
is  borne  by  the  senseless  and  wicked  tyranny  of  so-called  organ- 
ized labor  in  denying  to  our  own  children  a  fair  chance  to  learn 
honest  trades,  while  letting  in  foreign  workmen  in  shoals  to  crowd 
our  market,  a  policy  that  is  in  a  fair  Avay  of  losing  to  labor  all  the 
respect  due  it  from  our  growing  youth,  I  shall  not  here  discuss. 


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THE   CHILDREN  OF   THE  POOR  109 

The  general  result  was  well  put  by  a  tireless  worker  in  the  cause  of 

• 

improving-  the  condition  of  the  poor,  who  said  to  me :  "  They  are 
down  on  the  scrub-level ;  there  you  find  them  and  have  to  put  them 
to  such  use  as  you  can.  They  don't  know  anything  else,  and  that  is 
what  makes  it  so  hard  to  find  work  for  them.  Even  when  they  go 
into  a  shop  to  sew,  they  come  out  mere  machines,  able  to  do  only 
one  thing,  which  is  a  small  part  of  the  whole  they  do  not  grasp. 
And  thus,  without  the  slightest  training  for  the  responsibilities  of 
life,  they  marry  and  transmit  their  incapacity  to  another  generation 
that  is  so  much  worse  off  to  start  with."  She  spoke  of  the  girls, 
but  what  she  said  fitted  the  boys  just  as  well.  The  incapacity  of 
the  mother  is  no  greater  than  the  ignorance  of  the  father  in  the 
mass  of  such  unions.  Ignorance  and  poverty  are  the  natural  her- 
itage of  the  children. 

I  have  in  mind  a  typical  family  of  that  sort  which  our  commit- 
tee wrestled  with  a  whole  summer  in  Poverty  Gap.  Suggestive  lo- 
cation !  The  man  found  his  natural  level  on  the  Island,  where  we 
sent  him  first  thing.  The  woman  was  decent  and  willing  to  work, 
and  the  girls  young  enough  to  train.  But  Mrs.  Murphy  did  not 
get  on.  "  She  can't  even  hold  a  flat-iron  in  her  hand,"  reported  her 
first  employer  indignantly.  The  children  were  sent  to  good  places 
in  the  country,  and  repaid  the  kindness  shown  them  by  stealing, 
and  lying  to  cover  up  their  thefts.  They  were  not  depraved,  they 
were  simply  exhibiting  the  fruit  of  the  only  training  they  had  ever 
received — that  of  the  street.  It  was  like  undertaking  a  job  of 
original  creation  to  try  to  make  anything  decent  or  useful  out  of 
them. 

Another  case  that  exhibits  the  shoal  that  lies  always  close  to  the 
track  of  ignorant  poverty,  is  even  now  running  in  my  mind,  vainly 
demanding  a  practical  solution.  I  may  say  that  I  inherited  it 
from  professional  philanthropists,  who  had  struggled  with  it  for 
more  than  half  a  dozen  years  without  finding  the  Avay  out  they 
sought.  There  were  five  children  when  they  began,  depending  on 
a  mother  who  had  about  given  up  the  struggle  as  useless.     The 


110  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

fathor  was  a  loafer.  Wlieu  Ave  took  them  the  children  numbered 
ten,  and  the  strugsrle  was  long  since  over.  The  family  bore  the 
panper  stamp,  and  the  mother's  tears,  by  a  transition  impercepti- 
ble probably  to  herself,  had  become  its  stock  in  trade.  Two  of  the 
children  were  working,  earning  all  the  money  that  came  in  ;  those 
that  were  not  lay  about  in  the  room,  watching  tlie  charity  visitor 
in  a  way  and  with  an  intentness  that  betrayed  their  interest  in 
the  mother's  appeal.  It  required  very  little  experience  to  make 
the  prediction  that  shortly  ten  pauper  families  would  carry  on  the 
campaign  of  the  one  against  society,  if  those  children  lived  to 
grow  up.  And  they  were  not  to  blame,  of  course.  I  scarcely  know 
wdiich  was  most  to  be  condemned— when  we  tried  to  break  the 
family  up  by  throwing  it  on  the  street  as  a  necessary  step  to  get- 
ting possession  of  the  children— the  politician  who  tripped  us  up 
with  his  influence  in  the  court,  or  the  landlord  who  had  all  those 
years  made  the  poverty  on  the  second  floor  pan  out  a  golden  inter- 
est. It  was  the  outrageous  rent  for  the  filthy  den  that  had  been 
the  most  effective  argument  with  sympathizing  visitors.  Their 
pity  had  represented  to  the  owner,  as  nearly  as  I  could  make  out, 
for  eight  long  years,  a  capital  of  $2,600  invested  at  six  per  cent., 
payable  monthly.  The  idea  of  moving  was  preposterous ;  for 
what  other  landlord  would  take  in  a  homeless  family  with  ten  chil- 
dren and  no  income  ? 

Naturally  the  teaching  of  these  children  must  begin  by  going 
backward.  The  process  may  be  observed  in  the  industrial  schools, 
of  which  there  are  twenty-one  scattered  through  the  poor  tenement 
districts,  Avitli  a  total  enrolment  of  something  over  five  thousand 
pupils.*  A  count  made  last  October  showed  that  considerably 
more  than  one-third  w^ere  born  in  twelve  foreign  countries  where 
English  was  not  spoken,  and  that  over  ten  per  cent,  knew  no  word 
of  our  language.  The  vast  majority  of  the  rest  were  children  of 
foreign  parents,  mostly  German  and  Irish,  born  here.     According 

*  These  schools  are  established  and  managed  by  the  Children's  Aid  Society,   as  a 
co-ordinate  branch  of  the  public-scliool  system. 


THE   CHILDREN  OF   THE  POOR  111 

to  the  location  of  the  school  it  is  distinctive!}'  Italian,  Bohemian, 
Hebrew,  or  mixed,  the  German,  Irish,  and  colored  children  coming 
in  under  this  head  and  mingling-  without  the  least  friction.  What- 
ever its  stamp  of  nationality-,  the  curriculum  is  much  the  same. 
The  start,  as  often  as  is  necessary,  is  made  with  an  object-lesson — 
soap  and  water  being  the  elements  and  the  child  the  object.  The 
alphabet  comes  second  on  the  list.  Later  on  follow  lessons  in  sew- 
ing, cooking,  carpentry  for  the  boj^s,  and  like  practical  "  branches," 
of  which  the  home  aflfords  the  child  no  demonstration.  The  prizes 
for  good  behavior  are  shoes  and  clothing,  the  special  inducement 
a  free  lunch  in  the  dinner  hour.  Yer\-  lately  a  unique  exercise  has 
been  added  to  the  course  in  the  schools,  that  lays  hold  of  the 
very  marrow  of  the  problem  with  which  they  deal.  It  is  called 
"  saluting  the  flag,"  and  originated  with  Colonel  George  T.  Balch, 
of  the  Board  of  Education,  who  conceived  the  idea  of  instilling 
patriotism  into  the  little  future  citizens  of  the  Kepublic  in  doses  to 
suit  their  childish  minds.  To  talk  about  the  Union,  of  which  most 
of  them  had  but  the  vaguest  notion,  or  of  the  duty  of  the  citizen,  of 
which  they  had  no  notion  at  all,  was  nonsense.  In  the  flag  it  was 
all  foimd  embodied  in  a  central  idea  which  the}'  could  grasp.  In 
the  morning  the  star-spangled  banner  was  brought  into  the  school, 
and  the  children  were  taught  to  salute  it  with  patriotic  words. 
Then  the  best  scholar  of  the  day  before  was  called  out  of  the  ranks, 
and  it  was  given  to  him  or  her  to  keep  for  the  day.  The  thing  took 
at  once  and  was  a  tremendous  success. 

Then  was  evolved  the  plan  of  letting  the  children  decide  for 
themselves  whether  or  not  they  would  so  salute  the  flag  as  a  volun- 
tary oftering,  Avhile  incidentallj'-  instructing  them  in  the  duties  of 
the  voter  at  a  time  when  voting  was  the  one  topic  of  general  inter- 
est. Ballot-boxes  were  set  up  in  the  schools  on  the  day  before  the 
last  general  election.  The  children  had  been  furnished  -snth  ballots 
for  and  against  the  flag  the  week  before,  and  told  to  take  them 
home  to  their  parents  and  talk  it  over  with  them.  On  Monday 
they  cast  their  votes  with  all  the  solemuitj'  of  a  regular  election, 


112 


THE  POOR  IX  GREAT  CITIES 


aiul  Avitli  as  much  of  its  simple  machinen^  as  was  practicable.  As 
was  expected,  only  very  few  votes  against  the  flag  were  recorded. 
One  little  Irishman  in  the  Mott  Street  school  came  without  his 
ballot.     "The   old  man   tore   it   up,"   he   reported.     In   the   East 


^^- — '.?^»>^'>;  ■ 


.        >-Ve:''S»NS>>  . 


A  Synagogue   School   in   a  Hester  Street  Tenement. 


Seventy- third  Street  school  five  Bohemians  of  tender  years  set 
themselves  down  as  opposed  to  the  scheme  of  making-  Americans  of 
them.  Only  one,  a  little  girl,  gave  her  reason.  She  brought  her 
own  flag  to  school  :  "  I  vote  for  that,"  she  said,  sturdily,  and  the 
teacher  wisely  recorded  her  vote  and  let  her  keep  the  banner. 

I  happened  to  witness  the  election  in  the  Beach  Street  school, 
where  the  children  are  nearly  all  Italians.     The  minority  elements 


THE   CHILDREN  OF   THE  POOR  113 

were,  however,  represented  on  the  board  of  election  inspectors 
by  a  colored  girl  and  a  little  Irish  miss,  who  did  not  seem  in  the 
least  abashed  by  the  fact  that  they  were  nearly  the  only  repre- 
sentatives of  their  people  in  the  school.  The  tremendons  show  of 
dignity  with  which  they  took  their  seats  at  the  poll  was  most  im- 
pressive. As  a  lesson  in  practical  politics,  the  occasion  had  its 
own  humor.  It  was  clear  that  the  negress  was  most  impressed  with 
the  solemnity  of  the  occasion,  and  the  Irish  girl  with  its  practical 
opportunities.  The  Italians  disposition  to  grin  and  frolic,  even  in 
her  new  and  solemn  character,  betrayed  the  ease  with  which  she 
would,  were  it  real  politics,  become  the  game  of  her  Celtic  col- 
league. When  it  was  all  over  they  canvassed  the  vote  with  all  the 
gravity  befitting  the  occasion,  signed  together  a  certificate  stating 
the  result,  and  handed  it  over  to  the  principal  sealed  in  a  man- 
ner to  defeat  any  attempt  at  fraud.  Then  the  school  sang  Santa 
Lucia,  a  sweet  Neapolitan  ballad.  It  was  amusing  to  hear  the 
colored  girl,  and  the  half-dozen  little  Irish  children,  sing  right 
along  with  the  rest  the  Italian  words  of  which  they  did  not  under- 
stand one.  They  had  learned  them  from  hearing  them  sung  by 
the  others,  and  rolled  them  out  just  as  loudly,  if  not  as  sweetly,  as 
they. 

The  first  patriotic  election  in  the  Fifth  Ward  Industrial  School 
was  held  on  historic  ground.  The  house  it  occupies  was  John 
Ericsson's  imtil  his  death,  and  there  he  jjlanned  nearly  all  his  great 
inventions,  among  them  one  that  helped  save  the  flag  for  which  the 
children  voted  that  day.  The  children  have  lived  faithfully  up  to 
their  pledge.  Every  morning  sees  the  flag  carried  to  the  princi- 
pal's desk  and  all  the  little  ones,  rising  at  the  stroke  of  the  bell, 
say  with  one  voice,  "We  turn  to  our  flag  as  the  sunflower  turns  to 
the  sun!"  One  bell,  and  every  brown  right  fist  is  raised  to  the 
brow,  as  in  military  salute  :  "  We  give  our  heads ! "  Another 
stroke,  and  the  grimy  little  hands  are  laid  on  fis  many  hearts: 
"  And  our  hearts  !  "  Then  with  a  shout  that  can  be  heard  around 
the  corner :  " to  our  country  !     One  country,  one  language, 


114  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT   CITIES 

one  flag- !  "     No  one  can  hear  it  and  doubt  that  the  chiklren  mean 
every  Avord,  and  will  not  be  apt  to  forg-et  that  lesson  soon. 

The  earliest  notion  of  order  and  harmless  play  comes  to  the 
children  through  the  kindergartens,  to  which  access  is  now  made 
easier  every  day.  Without  a  doubt  this  is  the  longest  step  for- 
ward that  has  yet  been  taken  in  the  race  with  poverty  ;  for  the  kin- 
dergarten, in  gathering  in  the  children,  is  gradually  but  surely 
conquering  also  the  street,  with  its  power  for  mischief.  Until  it 
came,  the  street  was  the  only  escape  from  the  tenement — a  Hob- 
son's  choice,  for  it  is  hard  to  sa}^  which  is  the  most  corrupting. 
The  opportunities  rampant  in  the  one  were  a  sad  commentary  on 
the  sure  defilement  of  the  other.  AYliat  could  be  expected  of  a 
standard  of  decency  like  this  one,  of  a  household  of  tenants  who 
assured  me  that  Mrs.  M ,  at  that  moment  under  arrest  for  half- 
clubbing  her  husband  to  death,  was  "  a  very  good,  a  very  decent 
woman  indeed,  and  if  she  did  get  full,  he  (the  husband)  was  not 
much  ? "'  Or  of  the  rule  of  good  conduct  laid  down  hy  a  young  girl, 
found  beaten  and  senseless  in  the  street  up  in  the  Annexed  District 
last  autumn  :  "  Them  was  two  of  the  fellers  from  Frog  Hollow," 
she  said,  resentfully,  when  I  asked  who  struck  her  ;  "  them  toughs 
don't  know  how  to  behave  theirselves  when  they  see  a  lady  in 
liquor."  Hers  was  the  standard  of  the  street,  that  naturally  stamps 
what  belongs  to  it,  the  children's  games  with  the  rest.  Games  they 
always  had.  It  is  not  true,  as  someone  has  said,  that  our  poor 
children  do  not  know  how  to  play  "  London  Bridge  is  falling 
down  "  Avith  as  loud  a  din  in  the  streets  of  New  York,  every  day,  as 
it  has  fallen  these  hundred  years  and  more  in  every  British  town, 
and  the  children  of  the  Bend  march  "  all  around  the  mulberry 
bush  "  as  gleefully  as  if  there  were  a  green  shrub  to  be  found  with- 
in a  mile  of  their  slum.  It  is  the  slum  that  smudges  the  game  too 
easily,  and  the  kindergarten's  work  comes  in  helping  to  wipe  off 
the  smut.  So  far  from  New  York  children  being  duller  at  their 
play  than  those  of  other  cities  and  lands,  I  believe  the  reverse  to 
be  true.     They  lack  neither  spirit  nor  inventiveness.     I  watched  a 


THE   CHILDREN  OF   THE  POOR  115 

crowd  of  them  liayiiig'  a  donkey  party  in  the  street  one  night,  when 
those  parties  were  all  the  rag-e.  The  donkey  hung  in  the  window 
of  a  notion  store,  and  a  knot  of  tenement-house  children,  with  tails 
improvised  from  a  newspaper  and  dragged  in  the  g-utter  to  make 
them  stick,  were  staggering  blindly  across  the  sidewalk  trying  to 
fix  them  in  place  on  the  pane.  They  got  a  heap  of  fun  out  of  the 
g-ame,  quite  as  much,  it  seemed  to  me,  as  any  crowd  of  children 
could  have  got  in  a  tine  parlor,  until  the  storekeeper  came  out  with 
his  club.  Every  cellar-door  becomes  a  toboggan-slide  when  the 
children  are  around,  unless  it  is  hammered  full  of  envious  nails ; 
every  block  a  ball-ground  when  the  policeman's  back  is  turned, 
and  every  roof  a  kite-tield  ;  for  that  innocent  amusement  is  also 
forbidden  by  city  ordinance  "  below  Fourteenth  Street." 

It  is  rather  that  their  opportunities  for  mischief  are  greater  than 
those  for  harmless  amusement ;  made  so,  it  has  sometimes  seemed 
to  me,  with  deliberate  purpose  to  hatch  the  "  tough."  Given  idle- 
ness and  the  street,  and  he  will  grow  without  other  encouragement 
than  an  occasional  "fanning"  of  a  policeman's  club.  And  the  street 
has  to  do  for  his  playground.  There  is  no  other.  Central  Park  is 
miles  away.  The  small  parks  that  were  ordered  for  his  benefit  five 
years  ago,  exist  yet  only  on  paper.  Games  like  kite-flying  and 
ball-playing,  forbidden  but  not  suppressed,  as  happily  they  cannot 
be,  become  from  harmless  play  a  successful  challenge  of  law  and 
order  that  points  the  way  to  later  and  worse  achievements.  Every 
year  the  police  forbid  the  building  of  election  bonfires,  and 
threaten  vengeance  upon  those  who  disobey  the  ordinance  ;  and 
every  election  night  sees  the  sky  made  lurid  by  them  from  one  end 
of  the  town  to  the  other,  with  the  police  powerless  to  put  them 
out.  Year  by  year  the  boys  grow  bolder  in  their  raids  on  property 
when  their  supply  of  firewood  has  given  out,  until  the  destruction 
wrought  at  the  last  election  became  a  matter  of  public  scandal. 
Stoops,  wagons,  and  in  one  place  a  showcase  containing  property 
worth  many  hundreds  of  dollars,  were  fed  to  the  flames.  It  has 
happened  that  an  entire  frame  house  has  been  carried  ofi^  piecemeal 


116 


THE  rOOR  IN  GREAT   CITIES 


aud  burned  up  on  election  niglit.  The  boys,  organized  in  gangs, 
with  the  one  condition  of  membership  that  all  must  "give  in 
wood,"'  store  up  enormous  piles  of  fuel  for  months  before,  and 
though  the  police  lind  and  raid  a  good  many  of  them,  incidentally 
laying  in  supplies  of  kindling  wood  for  the  winter,  the  pile 
grows  again  in  a  single  night  as  the  neighborhood  reluctantly  con- 


M^ 


Night  School   in  the   Seventh   Avenue   Boys'   Lodging  House. 
(Edward,  the  little  pedlar,  caught  napping.) 


tributes  its  ash-barrels  to  the  cause.  The  germ  of  the  gangs  that 
terrorize  Avhole  sections  of  the  city  at  intervals,  and  feed  our  courts 
and  our  jails,  may,  without  much  difficulty,  be  discovered  in  these 
early  and  rather  grotesque  struggles  of  the  boys  with  the  police. 

Even  on  the  national  day  of  freedom  the  boy  is  not  left  to  the 
enjoyment  of  his  firecracker  without  the  ineffectual  threat  of  the 
law.  I  am  not  defending  the  firecracker,  but  arraigning  the  fail- 
ure of  the  law  to  carry  its  point  and  maintain  its  dignity.     It  has 


THE   CIIILDREX  OF   THE  POOR  117 

robbed  the  poor  cliilcT  of  tlie  street-baud,  one  of  his  fe^v  harmless 
delig-hts,  grudgingly  restoring  the  hand-organ,  but  not  the  monkey 
that  lent  it  its  charm.  In  the  baud  that,  banished  from  the  street, 
sneaks  into  the  back-yard,  its  instruments  hidden  under  bulging 
coats,  the  boy  hails  uo  longer  an  innocent  x)urveyor  of  amusement, 
but  an  ally  in  the  fight  with  the  common  enemy,  the  policeman. 
In  the  Thanksgiviug-Day  and  New-Year  parades,  which  he  for- 
mally permits,  he  furnishes  them  with  the  very  weapon  of  gang  or- 
ganization which  they  afterward  turn  against  him  to  his  hurt. 

And  yet  this  boy  who,  when  taken  from  his  alley  iyto  the 
country  for  the  first  time,  cries  out  in  delight,  "  How  blue  the  sky 
and  what  a  lot  of  it  there  is !  " — not  much  of  it  at  home  in  his  bar- 
rack— has,  in  the  very  love  of  dramatic  display  that  sends  him  forth 
to  beat  a  policeman  Avith  his  own  club  or  die  in  the  attempt,  in  the 
intense  vanity  that  is  only  a  perverted  form  of  pride  capable  of  any 
achievement,  a  handle  by  which  he  may  be  most  easily  grasped  and 
held.  It  cannot  be  done  by  gorging  him  e)i  masse  with  apjjles  and 
gingerbread  at  a  Christmas  party.*  It  can  be  done  only  by  indi- 
vidual effort,  and  by  the  iniiuence  of  personal  character  in  direct 
contact  wdth  the  child — the  great  secret  of  success  in  all  dealings 
with  the  i^oor.  Foul  as  the  gutter  he  comes  from,  he  is  open  to  the 
reproach  of  "bad  form"  as  few  of  his  betters.  Greater  even  than 
his  desire  eventually  to  "  down  "  a  policeman,  is  his  ambition  to  be 
a  "  gentleman,"  as  his  sister's  is  to  be  a  "  lady."  The  street  is  re- 
sponsil)le  for  the  caricature  either  makes  of  the  character.  On  a 
play -bill  in  an  East  Side  street,  only  the  other  day,  I  saAV  this  re>- 
erioh^e  set  down :  "  Thursday — '  The  Bowery  Tramp  ; '  Friday — '  The 
Thief.'  "  It  Avas  a  theatre  I  kncAV  newsboys  and  the  other  children 
of  the  street  Avho  Avere  earning  money  to  frequent  in  shoals.     The 

*  As  a  matter  of  fact  I  heard,  after  the  h\st  one  that  caused  so  much  discussion,  in 
an  alley  that  sent  seventy-five  children  to  the  show,  a  universal  growl  of  discontent. 
The  effect  on  the  children,  even  on  those  who  received  presents,  was  bad.  They  felt 
that  they  had  been  on  exhibition,  and  their  greed  was  aroused  with  their  resentment. 
It  was  as  I  expected  it  would  be. 


lis  THE  rOOR  IX  GEE  AT  CITIES 

play-bill  sug-g-ested  the  sort  of  training-  tliey  received  there.  Within 
sight  of  the  window  where  it  hung-  was  a  house  occupied  by  a 
handful  of  courageous  young  women,  who  settled  there  a  couple  of 
years  ago,  to  see  what  tliey  could  do  among  the  children  on  the 
other  tack.  They  had  a  different  story  to  tell.  Having-  once  g-ained 
their  confidence  they  had  found  boys  and  girls  most  eager  to  learn 
from  them  the  ways  of  polite  society.  Perhaps  that  may  be 
thought  not  the  highest  of  aims ;  but  it  will  hardly  be  denied  that 
to  find  a  girl  who  was  fighting  in  the  street  yesterday,  to-day  busy- 
ing herself  with  the  anxious  inquiry  whether  it  is  proper,  at  table, 
to  take  bread  from  the  plate  with  the  fingers  or  with  the  fork, 
arg'ues  progress ;  or  to  see  the  battle-scarred  young  tough  who  a 
month  ago  sat  on  the  table  with  cigar  in  his  mouth,  hat  on  the  back 
of  his  head,  and  kicked  his  heels,  who  was  ashamed  to  own  where 
he  lived,  and  so  terrorized  the  others  with  his  scowl  that  the  boy 
who  knew  said  he  would  g-et  killed  if  he  told — to  see  this  i^roduct 
of  the  street  with  carefully  brushed  clothes,  a  clean  collar,  and  a 
human  smile  inviting  the  lady  manager  to  the  foot-ball  game  be- 
cause he  knew  she  was  from  Princeton  and  a  partisan,  and  what  is 
more,  escorting  her  there  like  a  gentleman. 

In  the  wise  plan  of  these  reformers  the  gang  became  the  chib 
that  weaned  the  boys  from  the  street.  The  "  Hero  Club  "  and  the 
"  Knights  of  the  Piound  Table  "  took  the  place  of  the  Junk  Gang 
and  its  allies.  They  wrote  their  own  laws,  embodying  a  clause  to 
expel  any  disorderly  member,  and  managed  them  with  firmness. 
True  knights  were  they  after  their  fashion,  loyal  to  the  house  that 
sheltered  them,  and  ever  on  the  alert  to  repel  invasion.  Sinful  as  it 
was  in  their  code  not  to  "  swipe  "  or  "  hook  "  a  chicken  or  anything 
left  lying  around  loose  within  their  bailiwick,  if  any  outsider  em- 
ployed their  tactics  to  the  damage  of  the  house,  or  of  anything 
befriended  by  it,  they  would  swoop  down  upon  him  with  swift  ven- 
geance and  bring  him  in  captive  to  be  delivered  over  to  punish- 
ment. And  when  one  of  their  friends  hung  out  her  shingle  in  an- 
other street,  with  the  word  "  doctor  "  over  the  bell,  woe  to  the  urchin 


THE   CHILDREN  OF   THE  POOR 


119 


w-^ 


The   "Soup-House   Ganff." 

Class  in  Histoiy  in  the  Duane  Street  Newsboys'  Lodging-house. 

who  even  glanced  at  that  when  the  g'ang'  pnlled  all  the  other  bells 
in  the  block  and  langhed  at  the  wrath  of  the  tenants.  One  Inckless 
cliajj  forgot  himself  far  enough  to  yank  it  one  night,  and  immedi- 
ately an  angry  cry  Avent  up  from  the  gang :  "  Who  pulled  dat 
bell?"     "Mickey  did,"  was  the  answer,  and   Mickey's  howls  an- 


120  THE  POOR  IX  GREAT  CITIES 

iiouuced  to  tlie  amused  doctor  tlie  next  minute  that  lie  liad  been 
"  slugged "  and  slie  avenged.  This  doctor's  account  of  the  first 
formal  call  of  the  gang  in  the  block  was  highly  amusing.  It  called 
ill  a  body  and  showed  a  desire  to  please  that  tried  the  host's  nerves 
not  a  little.  The  boys  vied  Avitli  each  other  in  recounting  for  her 
entertainment  their  encounters  Avith  the  police  enemy,  and  in  ex- 
hibiting their  intimate  knowledge  of  the  wickedness  of  the  slums 
ill  minutest  detail.  One,  who  was  scarcely  twelve  years  old,  and 
had  lately  moved  from  Bayard  Street,  knew  all  the  ins  and  outs  of 
the  Chinatown  opium  dives,  and  painted  them  in  glowing  colors. 
The  doctor  listened  with  half-amused  dismay,  and  when  the  boys 
rose  to  go  told  them  she  was  glad  they  had  called.  So  were  they, 
they  said,  and  they  guessed  they  would  call  again  the  next  night. 

"  Oh !  don't  come  to-morrow,"  said  the  doctor,  in  something  of  a 
fright ;  "  come  next  week  ! "  She  was  relieved  upon  hearing  the 
leader  of  the  gang  reproving  the  rest  of  the  fellows  for  their  want 
of  style.  He  bowed  with  great  precision  and  announced  that  he 
would  call  "  in  about  two  weeks." 

I  am  sorry  to  say  that  the  entente  cordiale  of  the  establishment 
was  temporarily  disturbed  recently  by  a  strike  of  the  "  Hero  Club," 
or  the  "Knights,"  I  forget  which.  The  managers  received  their 
first  intimation  that  trouble  was  brewing  in  the  resignation  of  the 
leader.  It  came  by  letter,  in  very  dignified  form.  "  My  apprehen- 
sions is  now  something  eligible,"  he  wrote.  The  ladies  decided, 
after  thinking  the  matter  over,  that  he  meant  that  he  was  looking 
for  something  better,  and  they  translated  the  message  correctly. 
There  came  shortly,  from  the  disaffected  element  he  had  gathered 
around  him,  a  written  demand  for  the  organization  of  a  new  club  to 
be  called  "the  Gentlemen's  Sons'  Association;  "  among  the  objects 
this  :  "  Furthermore,  that  we  may  participate  hereafter  to  commem- 
orate with  the  doings  of  a  gentleman."  The  request  was  refused, 
and  the  boys  went  on  strike,  threatening  to  start  their  club  else- 
where. The  ladies  met  the  crisis  firmly.  Tliey  sent  a  walking 
delegate  to  the  boys  with  the  message  that  if  they  could  organize  a 


THE   CHILDREN   OF   THE  POOR  121 

strike,  they,  on  their  side,  could  organize  a  lock-out.     There  the 
matter  rested  when  I  last  heard  of  it. 

The  testimony  of  these  workers  agrees  with  that  of  most  others 
who  reach  the  girls  at  an  age  when  they  are  yet  manageable,  that 
the  most  abiding  results  follow  with  them,  though  they  are  harder 
to  get  at.  The  boys  respond  more  readily,  but  also  more  easily  fall 
from  grace.  The  same  good  and  bad  traits  are  found  in  both ;  the 
same  trying  superficiality,  the  same  generous  helpfulness,  charac- 
teristic of  the  poor  everywhere.  Out  of  the  depth  of  their  bitter 
poverty  I  saw  the  children  in  the  West  Fifty-second  Street  Indus- 
trial School,  last  Thanksgiving,  bring  for  the  relief  of  the  aged  and 
helpless,  and  those  even  poorer  than  they,  such  gifts  as  they  could 
—a  handful  of  ground  cofiee  in  a  paper  bag,  a  couple  of  Irish  po- 
tatoes, a  little  sugar  or  flour,  and  joyfully  offer  to  carry  them  home. 
It  was  on  such  a  trip  I  found  little  Katie,  aged  nine,  in  a  Forty- 
ninth  Street  tenement,  keeping  house  for  her  older  sister  and  two 
brothers,  all  of  whom  worked  in  the  hammock  factory,  earning  from 
14.50  to  $1.50  a  week.  They  had  moved  together  when  their  mother 
died  and  the  father  brought  home  another  wife.  Their  combined 
income  was  something  like  $9.50  a  week,  and  the  simple  furniture 
Avas  bought  on  instalment.  But  it  was  all  clean,  if  poor.  Katie 
did  the  cleaning  and  the  cooking  of  the  plain  kind.  She  scrubbed 
and  swept  and  went  to  school,  all  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  ran  the 
house  generally.  In  her  person  and  work  she  answered  the  ques- 
tion sometimes  asked,  why  we  hear  so  much  about  the  boys  and  so 
little  of  the  girls  ;  because  the  home  claims  their  work  nnicli  earlier 
and  to  a  much  greater  extent,  while  the  boys  are  turned  out  to 
shift  for  themselves,  and  because  therefore  their  miseries  are  so 
much  more  common-place,  and  proportionally  uninteresting.  It  is 
woman's  lot  to  suffer  in  silence.  If  occasionally  she  makes  herself 
heard  in  querulous  protest ;  if  injustice  long  borne  gives  her 
tongue  a  sharper  edge  than  the  occasion  seems  to  require,  it  can  at 
least  be  said  in  her  favor  that  her  bark  is  much  worse  than  her  bite. 
The  missionary  who  complains  that  the  wife  nags  her  husband  to 


122  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

the  point  of  making  the  saloon  his  refug-e,  or  the  sister  her  brother 
until  he  flees  to  the  street,  bears  testimony  in  the  same  breath  to 
her  readiness  to  sit  up  all  night  to  mend  the  clothes  of  the  scamp 
she  so  hotly  denounces.  Sweetness  of  temper  or  of  speech  is  not  a 
distinguishing-  feature  of  tenement-house  life,  any  more  among  the 
children  than  with  their  elders.  In  a  party  sent  out  by  our  com- 
mittee for  a  summer  vacation  on  a  Jersey  farm,  last  summer,  was  a 
little  knot  of  six  girls  from  the  Seventh  Ward.  They  had  not  been 
gone  three  days  before  a  letter  came  from  one  of  them  to  the 
mother  of  one  of  the  others.  "Mrs.  Eeilly,"  it  read,  "  if  you  have 
any  sinse  you  will  send  for  your  child."  That  they  would  all  be 
murdered  was  the  sense  the  frightened  mother  made  out  of  it.  The 
six  came  home  post  haste,  the  youngest  in  a  state  of  high  dudgeon 
at  her  sudden  translation  back  to  the  tenement.  The  lonesomeness 
of  the  farm  had  frightened  the  others.  She  was  little  more  than  a 
baby,  and  her  desire  to  go  back  was  explained  by  one  of  the  res- 
cued ones  thus :  "  She  sat  two  mortil  hours  at  the  table  a  stuffin'  of 
herself,  till  the  missus  she  says,  says  she,  '  Does  yer  mother  lave  xe 
to  sit  that  long  at  the  table,  sis  ? '  " 

Not  rarely  does  this  child  of  common  clay  rise  to  a  height  of 
heroism  that  discovers  depths  of  feeling  and  character  full  of  un- 
suspected promise.  Two  or  three  winters  ago  a  midnight  fire, 
started  by  a  fiend  in  human  shape,  destroyed  a  tenement  in  Hester 
Street,  killing  a  number  of  the  tenants.  On  the  fourth  floor  the 
firemen  found  one  of  these  penned  in  with  his  little  girl  and  helped 
them  to  the  window.  As  they  were  handing  out  the  child  she  broke 
away  from  them  suddenly  and  stepped  back  into  the  smoke  to  what 
seemed  certain  death.  The  firemen,  climbing  after,  groped  around 
shouting  for  her  to  come  back.  Half-way  across  the  room  they 
came  u])on  her,  gasping  and  nearly  smothered,  dragging  a  doll's 
trunk  over  the  floor. 

"  I  could  not  leave  it,"  she  said,  thrusting  it  at  the  men  as  they 
seized  her;  "my  mother " 

They  flung  the  box  angrily  through  the  window.     It  fell  crash- 


THE   CHILDREN  OF   THE  POOR 


123 


Present  Tenants  of  John   Ericsson's  Old   House,    now   the    Beach   Street  Industrial   School. 


ing-  on  tlie  sidewalk,  and,  breaking  open,  revealed  no  doll  or  tinery, 
but  the  deed  for  her  dead  mother's  grave.  Little  Bessie  had  not 
forgotten  her,  despite  her  thirteen  years. 


124:  THE  POOR  IX  GREAT  CITIES 

It  is  the  tenement  setting-  that  stamps  the  chikT's  life  with  the 
vicious  touch  which  is  sometimes  only  the  caricature  of  the  virtues 
of  a  better  soil.  Under  the  rough  l)urr  lie  undeveloped  qualities  of 
good  and  of  usefulness,  rather  perhaps  of  the  cajDacity  for  them, 
which,  if  the  testimony-  of  observers  on  the  other  side  be  true,  one 
shall  vainly  seek  in  their  brothers  and  sisters  of  the  Old-AVorld 
slums.  It  ma}"  be,  as  I  have  had  occasion  to  observe  before,  that 
the  reason  must  be  soug-ht  in  the  g-reater  age  of  the  breed  over 
there,  and  that  we  are  observing  here  the  beginning  of  a  process  of 
deterioration  that  shall  eventually  land  us  where  the}^  are,  unless 
the  inroads  of  the  tenement  be  checked  by  the  preventive  measures 
of  which  I  have  spoken.  The  testimony  of  a  teacher  for  twenty- 
five  years  in  one  of  the  ragged  schools,  who  has  seen  the  shanty 
neighborhood  that  surrounded  her  at  the  start  give  place  to  mile- 
long  rows  of  big  tenements,  is  positive  on  this  point.  T\  ith  the  dis- 
appearance of  the  shanties — homesteads  in  effect,  however  humble 
— and  the  coming  of  the  tenement  crowds,  there  "has  been  a  distinct 
descent  in  the  scale  of  refinement  among  the  children,  if  one  may 
use  the  term.  The  crowds  and  the  loss  of  home  privacy,  with  the 
increased  importance  of  the  street  as  a  factor,  account  for  it.  The 
general  tone  has  been  lowered,  while  at  the  same  time,  by  reason 
of  the  greater  rescue  efforts  put  forward,  the  original  amount  of 
ignorance  has  been  reduced.  The  big  loafer  of  the  old  day,  who 
could  neither  read  nor  write,  has  been  eliminated  to  a  large  extent. 
Nearly  all  the  children  get  now  some  schooling,  if  not  much  ;  and 
the  proportion  of  child  ofienders  annually  arraigned  in  the  courts 
has  been  materially  reduced.  There  is  compensation  in  this ; 
whether  enough  to  make  up  for  Avliat  is  lost,  time  and  the  amount 
of  effort  put  forth  to  turn  the  scales  for  good  wdll  show. 

Drunkenness  is  the  vice  that  wrecks  that  half  of  the  homes  of 
the  poor  which  do  not  cause  it.  It  is  that  which,  in  nine  cases  out 
of  ten,  drives  the  boy  to  the  street  and  the  girl  to  a  life  of  shame. 
No  end  of  sad  cases  could  be  quoted  in  support  of  this  statement. 
I  can  here  only  refer  those  who  wish  to  convince  themselves  of  its 


THE  CHILDREN  OF   THE  POOR  125 

truth  to  the  records  of  the  Society  for  the  Prevention  of  Cruelty  to 
Chiklren,  the  Five  Points  House  of  Industry,  the  Eeformatory,  and 
a  score  of  other  charitabhi  and  correctional  institutions,  I  have 
been  at  some  pains  to  satisfy  myself  on  the  point  by  tracing-  back, 
as  far  as  I  was  able — by  no  means  an  easy  task — the  careers  of  the 
boys  I  met  in  the  lodging-houses  that  are  set  as  traps  for  them, 
where  they  have  their  run,  chiefly  down  around  the  newspaper  of- 
fices. In  seven  cases  out  of  ten  it  was  the  same  story  :  a  drunken 
father  or  mother  made  the  street  preferable  to  the  home— never 
home  in  anything  but  name— and  to  the  street  they  went.  In  the 
other  cases  death  had,  perhaps,  broken  up  the  family  and  thrown 
the  boys  upon  the  world.  That  was  the  story  of  one  of  the  boys  I 
tried  to  photograph  at  a  quiet  game  of  "  craps  "  in  the  wash-room 
of  the  Duane  Street  lodging-house— James  Brady.  Father  and 
mother  had  both  died  two  months  after  they  came  here  from  Ire- 
land, and  he  went  forth  from  the  tenement  alone  and  without  a 
friend,  but  not  without  courage.  He  just  walked  on  until  he 
stumbled  on  the  lodging-house  and  fell  into  a  job  of  selling  papers. 
James,  at  the  age  of  sixteen,  was  being  initiated  into  the  mysteries 
of  the  alphabet  in  the  evening  school.  He  was  not  sure  that  he 
liked  it.  The  German  boy  who  took  a  hand  in  the  game,  and  who 
made  his  grub  and  his  bed-money,  when  he  was  lucky,  by  picking 
U13  junk,  had  just  such  a  career.  The  third,  the  bootblack,  gave  his 
reasons  briefly  for  running  away  from  his  Philadelphia  home  : 
"  Me  muther  wuz  all  the  time  hittin'  me  when  I  cum  in  the  house, 
so  I  cum  away."  So  did  a  German  boy  I  met  there,  if  for  a  slightly 
different  reason.  He  was  fresh  from  over  the  sea,  and  had  not  yet 
learned  a  word  of  English.  In  his  own  tongue  he  told  why  he 
came.  His  father  sent  him  to  a  gymnasium,  but  the  Latin  was  "  zu 
schwer  "  for  him,  and  "  der  Herr  Papa  sagt'  heraus  !  "  He  was  evi- 
dently a  boy  of  good  family,  but  slow.  His  father  could  have 
taken  no  better  course,  certainly,  to  cure  him  of  that  defect,  if  he 
did  not  mind  the  danger  of  it. 

Two  little  brothers,  who   attracted  my  attention  by  the  sturdy 


126 


THE  POOR  IN  GREAT   CITIES 


way  in  whieli  they  lit  Id  together,  back  to  back,  against  the  world, 
as  it  were,  had  a  different  story  to  tell.  Their  mother  died,  and 
their  father,  who  worked  in  a  gas-house,  broke  \\^  the  household, 
unable  to  maintain  it.     The  boys,  eleven  and  thirteen  years  old, 


A  Warm   Corner  for  Newsboys  on  a  Cold    Night. 


Avent  out  to  shift  for  themselves,  while  he  made  his  home  in  a  Bow- 
ery lodging-house.  The  oldest  of  the  brothers  was  then  earning 
three  dollars  a  week  in  a  factory ;  the  younger  was  selling  news- 
papers and  making  out.  The  day  I  first  saw  him  he  came  in  from 
his  route  early — it  was  raining  hard — to  get  dry  trousers  out  for 


THE   CniLDllEM  OF  THE  rOOE  127 

his  brother  against  the  time  he  shoukl  be  home  from  the  factory. 
There  was  no  doubt  the  two  would  hew  their  way  through  the 
worhi  together.  The  right  stuff  was  in  them,  as  in  the  two  other 
lads,  also  brothers,  I  found  in  the  Tompkins  Square  lodging-house. 
Their  parents  had  both  died,  leaving  them  to  care  for  a  palsied  sis- 
ter and  a  little  brother.  They  sent  the  little  one  to  school  and 
went  to  work  for  the  sister.  Their  combined  earnings  at  the  shop 
were  just  enough  to  support  her  and  one  of  the  brothers  who  stayed 
with  her.  The  other  went  to  the  lodging-house,  where  he  could 
live  for  eighteen  cents  a  day,  turning  the  rest  of  his  earnings  into 
the  family  fund.  With  this  view  of  these  homeless  lads,  the  one 
who  goes  much  among  them  is  not  surprised  to  hear  of  their  club- 
bing together,  as  they  did  in  the  Seventh  Avenue  lodging-house, 
to  fit  out  a  little  ragamuffin,  Avho  was  brought  in  shivering  from  the 
street,  with  a  suit  of  clothes.  There  was  not  one  in  the  crowd  that 
chipped  in  Avho  had  a  whole  coat  to  his  back. 

It  was  in  this  lodging-house  I  first  saw  Buffalo.  He  was  pre- 
sented to  me  the  night  I  took  the  picture  of  my  little  vegetable- 
peddling  friend,  Edward,  asleeji  on  the  front  bench  in  evening- 
school.  Edward  was  nine  years  old  and  an  orphan,  but  hard  at 
work  every  day  earning  his  own  living-  by  shouting  from  a  ped- 
ler's  cart.  He  could  not  be  made  to  sit  for  his  picture,  and  I  took 
him  at  a  disadvantage — in  a  double  sense,  for  he  had  not  made 
his  toilet ;  it  was  in  the  days  of  the  threatened  water-famine,  and 
the  boys  had  been  warned  not  to  waste  water  in  washing,  an  in- 
junction they  cheerfully  obeyed.  I  was  anxious  not  to  have  the 
boy  disturbed,  so  the  spelling-class  went  right  on  while  I  set  up 
the  camera.  It  was  an  original  class,  original  in  its  answers 
as  in  its  looks.  This  was  wdiat  I  heard  while  I  focused  on  poor 
Eddie : 

The  teacher  :   "  Cheat !  spell  cheat." 

Boy  spells  correctly. 

Teacher  :  "  Eight !     What  is  it  to  cheat  ?  " 

Boy  :   "  To  skin  one,  like  Tommy " 


12S 


THE  POOR  IN  GREAT   CITIES 


The  teacher  cut  the  exphination  short,  and  ordering  up  another 
boy,  bade  him  spell  "  nerve."     He  did  it. 

"  What  is  nerve  ?  "  demanded  the  teacher  ;  "  what  does  it  mean  ?  " 

"  Cheek !  don't  you  know,"  said 
the  boy,  and  at  that  moment  I 
caught  Buffalo  blacking  my  sleep- 
ing pedler's  face  with  ink,  just  in 
time  to  prevent  his  waking  him 
up.  Then  it  was  that  I  heard  the 
disturber's  story.  He  was  a  char- 
acter, and  no  mistake.  He  had 
run  away  from  Buffalo,  whence  his 
name,  "  beating  "  his  way  down  on 
the  trains  until  he  reached  New 
York.  He  "  shined  "  around  until 
he  got  so  desperately  hard  up 
that  he  had  to  sell  his  kit.  Just 
about  then  he  was  discovered  hj 
an  artist,  who  paid  him  to  sit  for 
him  in  his  awful  rags,  with  his 
tousled  hair  that  had  not  known 
the  restraint  of  a  cap  for  months. 
"  Oh  !  it  was  a  daisy  job,"  sighetl 
Buffalo,  at  the  recollection.  He 
had  only  to  sit  still  and  crack 
jokes.  Alas !  Buffalo's  first  effort 
at  righteousness  upset  him.  He 
had  been  taught  in  the  lodging- 
house  that  to  be  clean  was  the  first 
requisite  of  a  gentleman,  and  on  his  first  pay-day  he  went  bravely, 
eschewing  "  craps,"  and  bought  himself  a  ncAV  coat  and  had  his  hair 
cut.  When,  beaming  Avith  pride,  he  presented  himself  at  the 
studio  in  his  new  character,  the  artist  turned  him  out  as  no  longer 
of  any  use  to  him.     I  am  afraid  that  Buffalo's  ambition  to  be  "  like 


Buffalo. 


THE  CHILDREN  OF   THE  POOR  129 

folks  "  received  a  shock  by  this  mysterious  misfortune  that  Avill 
prevent  his  ever  attaining-  the  level  where  he  may  join  the  class  in 
history  that  goes  by  the  attractive  name  of  the  "  Soup-house 
Gang  "  in  the  Duane  Street  lodging-house  school.  And  it  is  too 
bad,  for  the  class  is  proficient,  if  it  is  in  its  shirt-sleeves,  and  has  at 
least  a  couple  of  members  who  will  certainly  make  their  mark. 

In  the  summer  a  good  many  of  the  boys  sleep  in  the  street ;  it 
is  coolest  there,  and  it  costs  nothing  if  one  can  get  out  of  the  sight 
of  the  policeman.  In  winter  they  seek  the  lodging-diouses  or  curl 
themselves  up  on  the  steam-pipes  in  the  newspaper  offices  that 
open  their  doors  after  midnight.  They  are  hunted  nowadays  so 
persistently  by  the  police  and  by  the  agents  of  the  Society  for  the 
Prevention  of  Cruelty  to  Children,  that  very  few  escape  altogether. 
In  the  lodging-houses  they  are  made  to  go  to  school.  There  are 
enough  of  them  always  whom  nobody  owns ;  but  the  great  mass  of 
the  boys  and  girls  who  cry  their  "  extrees  !  "  on  the  street  are  chil- 
dren with  homes,  who  thus  contribute  to  the  family  earnings  and 
sleep  out,  if  they  do,  because  they  have  either  not  sold  their  papers 
or  gambled  away  the  money  at  craps,  and  are  afraid  to  go  home. 
It  was  for  such  a  reason  little  Giuseppe  Marg^alto  and  his  chum 
made  their  bed  in  the  ventilating  chute  at  the  post-office  on  the 
night  General  Sherman  died,  and  were  caught  by  the  fire  that 
broke  out  in  the  mail-room  toAvard  midnight.  Giuseppe  was 
burned  to  death  ;  the  other  escaped  to  bring-  the  news  to  the  dark 
Crosby  Street  alley  in  which  he  had  lived.  Giuseppe  did  not  die 
his  cruel  death  in  vain.  A  much  stricter  watch  has  been  kept 
since  upon  the  boys,  and  they  are  no  longer  allowed  to  sleep  in 
many  places  to  which  they  formerly  had  access.  The  purpose 
is  to  corral  the  homeless  element  in  the  lodging-houses  ;  and  but 
for  the  neighboring  Bowery  "  hotels  "  that  beckon  the  older  boys 
with  their  promise  of  greater  freedom,  it  would  probably  be  suc- 
cessfully attained. 

Even  with  this  drawback,  the  figures  of  the  Children's  Aid 
Society   show  that    progress   is   being   made.     While    in    1881   its 


130  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

lodging'-lioiises  sheltered  14,452  children,  of  whom  13,155  were  boys 
iiud  1,287  girls,  in  1891,  though  more  than  500,000  had  been  added 
to  the  city's  population,  the  number  of  child-lodgers  had  fallen  to 
11,770,  only  335  of  whom  were  girls.  The  whole  number  of  chil- 
dren sheltered  in  the  six  houses,  in  twelve  years,  to  1891,  was  149,- 
994,  among  them  8,820  girls.  The  problem  is  a  great  one,  but  the 
efforts  on  foot  to  solve  it  are  as  great,  and  growing.  That  the  be- 
ginning must  be  made  with  the  children  in  the  battle  with  poverty 
and  ignorance  and  crime  was  recognized  long  ago.  It  has  been 
made  ;  and  we  know  now  that  through  them  the  rampart  next  to 
be  taken — the  home — is  reached.  It  has  been  a  forty  years'  war, 
and  it  is  only  just  begun.  But  the  first  blow,  as  the  old  saying 
runs,  is  half  the  battle,  and  it  has  been  struck  in  New  York,  and 
struck  to  win. 


THE  STOKY  OF  THE  FEESH-AIR  FUND 
By  WILLARD  PARSONS 

MANAGER 

The  Foundation  of  the  Fund— The  Post  and  Tkibune— Statistics  of  the 
Fund— Excursions — The  Provision  for  Entertaining  the  Children — 
How  THE  Excursions  are  Managed — Typical  Letters — Effect  of  the 
Children's  Outings — Some  "  Fresh-Air  Boys'' — The  Physicians  Report — 
Fresh- Air  Funds  in  Other  Cities — Development  op  the  Plan. 

IN  tlie  Slimmer  of  1877,  when  pastor  of  a  small  clnircli  in  Slier- 
nian,  Pa.,  I  came  to  New  York  and  gathered  a  little  company 
of  the  poorest  and  most  needy  children  I  could  find.  They 
were  taken  out  among"  my  people,  who  were  waiting-  to  receive 
them  as  their  guests  for  a  fortnight  during  the  midsummer  heat. 
Others  took  the  place  of  the  first  company ;  and  at  the  end  of  the 
season  the  g-ood  people  had  entertained  sixty  poor  city  children 
for  a  fortnight  each ;  and  that,  too,  without  any  compensation  save 
the  consciousness  of  having-  done  a  simple  Christ-like  act  of  charity 
to  one  in  need.  This  somewhat  novel  experiment  of  taking  little 
ones  from  the  wretched  city  tenements  to  comfortable  country 
homes  was  a  most  gratifying  success. 

The  object  first  aimed  at  was  the  physical  improvement  of  the 
poor.  It  was  only  after  months  of  earnest  thought  and  careful 
planning-  that  the  Fresh- Air  project  was  launched,  even  in  this 
small  way.  The  work  was  started  with  the  hope  of  proving  that 
bodies  diseased,  enfeebled  by  poor  and  insufiicient  food  and  foul 
air,  could  be  benefited  by  a  two  weeks'  stay  in  better  surroundings. 


132  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

lu  the  i^lan  of  carrying  on  this  experiment,  there  were  three 
main  factors  to  be  considered,  viz. :  1.  To  get  the  money.  2.  To 
find  the  temporary  homes.     3.  To  select  the  children. 

First,  as  to  raising*  the  money  :  It  was  an  easy  matter,  after  the 
success  of  the  first  season,  to  induce  the  New  York  Evening  Post  to 
take  up  the  enterprise,  and  raise  the  necessary  fund  to  carry  on 
and  enlarge  it,  which  it  did  successfully  for  four  years. 

AVhen  the  plan  of  continuing  the  enterprise  was  discussed  in 
the  spring  of  1882,  the  friends  of  the  "Fund"  most  heartily  wel- 
comed the  willingness  of  the  New  York  Tribune  to  take  it  up ;  and 
it  was  then  transferred  from  the  Evcnhu]  Post  to  the  Trihune.  By 
the  law  of  natural  selection  such  a  humane  undertaking  will  best 
crystallize  around  a  journal  of  the  character  of  the  Trihune.  The 
large  circulation  of  that  newspaper  and  its  well-known  interest  in 
philanthropic  labors  of  like  character,  together  with  the  high  class 
people  the  journal  reaches,  have  given  the  best  possible  support 
to  the  "  Fresh-Air  Fund." 

Monej'  in  abundance  for  all  jiossible  needs  has  always  been 
forthcoming.  The  mere  statement  in  the  Trihune  that  $3.00  would 
give  a  poor  child  a  fortnight  in  the  country  has  been  all  that  was 
necessary  to  fill  the  treasury.  It  is  a  most  significant  fact  that 
more  than  three  hundred  thousand  dollars  have  been  sent  as  vol- 
untary contributions,  and  it  has  never  been  necessary  to  employ 
any  collectors. 

Every  sort  of  entertainment  has  been  given  to  swell  the  fund, 
from  children  selling  pin- wheels  and  wild  flowers  by  the  wayside, 
netting,  i^erhaps,  a  few  coppers,  to  the  more  pretentious  fair  and 
festival,  netting  its  hundreds  of  dollars ;  from  the  boys'  circus  in 
the  barn  to  the  finished  entertainments  in  public  halls.  Children 
have  pulled  weeds  in  the  garden  and  boys  gone  without  their 
Fourtli  of  July  fire-crackers  ;  the  small  savings-bank  of  the  dead 
child  has  often  been  sent  to  bring  life  and  happiness  to  the  poor 
sick  one ;  in  fact,  from  Maine  to  California,  from  Canada  to  Florida, 
from  South  America,  from  the  Old  World,  and  even  from  Africa, 


THE  STORY  OF   THE  FRESH- AIR  FUND 


133 


have  come  voluntary  contributions  to  carry  on  this  most  humane 
work  among  the  poor  of  our  overcrowded  city. 

Beginning-  in  a  very  unobtrusive  way— at  first  with  a  party  of 
only  nine  children,  and,  as  I  have  said,  with  sixty  for  the  entire 
season— the  work  has  grown  steadily  and  rapidly  till  it  has  greatly 
exceeded  the  wildest  dreams  of  its  manager.  The  growth  of  the 
scheme  from  its  inception  is  best  illustrated  by  the  following 
table : 


Number  sent  to  the 

country  for  two 

weeks. 

Number  sent  out 
for  one  day. 

Total  number  of 
beneficiaries 

Expenditures. 

Average  cost 
per  capita. 

1877 

1878 

1879 

1880 

1881 

1882 

1883 

1884 

1885 

1886 

1887 

1888 

1889 

1890 

1891 

1892 

1893 

1894 

60 

1,077 

2,400 

2,500 

3,203 

5.500 

4,250 

6,253 

6,650 

8,336 

7.748 

10,920 

10,352 

11,193 

13,568 

15,236 

13,846 

10,171 

'600 
1,000 

5,700 
1,000 
6,073 
1,600 

18',629 

22,088 
25,560 
26,329 

28,432 

60 

1,077 

2,400 

3,100 

4,203 

5,500 

9,950 

7,253 

12,723 

9,936 

7,748 

10,920 

10,352 

29,222 

35,656 

40,796 

40,175 

40,850 

.f  187  62 

2,980  29 

6,511  54 

8,519  71 

8,217  64 

21,325  06 

14,908  69 

18,756  14 

19,863  95 

24,092  09 

22,783  85 

25,636  64 

24,978  29 

23,804  11 

28,068  28 

27,925  51 

26,620  75 

22,809  60 

!if3  12 
2  77 

2  71 

3  55 
2  54 

2  85 

3  36 
3  00 
2  98 
2  89 
2  94 
2  35 
2  42 
2  VI 
2  03 
1  83 

1  92 

2  24 

Totals 

133,263 

136,411 

209,674 

S327,989  74 

$2  46 

It  is  thus  seen  that  during  its  eighteen  years  133,263  children 
have  been  sent  to  the  country  for  a  fortnight's  vacation,  at  a  total 
cost  of  $327,989.74,  or  at  an  average  cost  of  $2.46  per  capita.  Be- 
sides this,  136,411  have  been  taken  out  for  a  day's  trip,  which 
makes  the  total  number  of  beneficiaries  269,674.  The  entire  ex- 
penses of  the  day  excursions  have  been  borne  by  one  gentleman, 
and  are  not  included  in  the  table  of  expenditures. 

The  various  transjoortation  companies  cheerfully  make  large  re- 


134  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

ductions  from  the  regular  fare.  No  salaries  or  office  expenses  are 
ever  paid  from  the  fund,  and  many  helpers  voluntarily  give  their 
services.  Who  can  instance  a  charity  where  $2.46  invested  will  do 
as  much  good  ? 

The  second  question  is  most  constantly  asked:  "How  do  you 
find  the  temporary  homes  for  the  children  ?  "  I  have  never  found 
any  value  in  circulars,  and  but  very  little  response  even  to  personal 
letters.  I  have  only  found  success  by  i^ersonal  appeals.  Among 
my  own  jiarishioners  a  practical  interest  was  aroused  as  soon  as  I 
had  shown  them  something  of  the  condition  of  the  poor  children  in 
the  tenements,  and  the  simple  plan  of  relief  was  most  heartily  adopt- 
ed. After  the  success  of  the  experiment,  other  communities  were 
more  easily  interested  and  were  quite  ready  to  offer  hospitality. 

I  begin  early  in  April  a  systematic  visitation  from  town  to 
town.  A  call  is  made  on  the  various  clergymen,  the  editor  of  the 
local  paper,  and,  if  possible,  a  few  of  the  leading  citizens.  A  brief 
explanation  of  the  work — a  few  words  to  show  the  condition  and 
needs  of  the  tenement-house  children  and  the  great  benefit  of  a 
fortnight's  trij),  are  usually  sufficient  to  awaken  a  practical  interest. 
Then  a  local  committee  is  appointed  and  the  success  or  failure  in 
that  community  is  due,  to  a  large  extent,  to  the  zeal  and  earnest- 
ness of  this  committee.  The  local  committee  finds  out  how  many 
children  can  be  provided  for,  and,  when  ready  for  their  comj^any, 
reports  the  result  and  arranges  with  the  manager  the  various 
details  for  their  coming.  Every  possible  opportunity  for  getting 
a  knowledge  of  the  work  before  the  people  is  seized  upon.  At  any 
and  every  sort  of  public  meeting  that  can  be  heard  of,  permission 
is  asked  to  present  the  cause.  Almost  without  exception,  a  few 
minutes  are  granted. 

Since  the  charity  has  grown  to  such  proportions  it  is  not  pos- 
sible for  me  to  give  much  time  to  the  country  visitations,  and 
several  people  who  are  thorouglily  familiar  with  my  methods,  and 
in  whom  I  have  perfect  confidence,  have  been  most  successful  in 
arousing  an  interest  in  the  cause  in  the  country.     A  railway  ticket 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  FRESH- AIR  FUND  135 

g-iven  is  often  the  only  expense  necessary  to  send  some  of  the  city 
missionaries,  physicians,  or  clergymen  into  their  native  regions, 
where  (with  an  extended  acquaintance  among  the  people)  it  is  easy 
to  induce  them  to  throw  wide  open  their  hosi:)itable  doors.  In 
every  case  there  is  a  great  deal  in  personal  solicitation. 

In  answer  to  the  third  question,  I  may  say  that  it  is  no  easy  mat- 
ter to  select  the  children  for  these  trips.  Everyone  who  has  had  the 
care  of  getting  a  band  of  children  ready  for  the  countr\^  will  most 
readily  testify  to  the  truth  of  this  statement.  Last  svimmer  more 
than  two  hundred  workers  among  the  poor  aided  in  the  selecting 
and  preparing  the  children  for  the  country.  These  workers  are 
from  the  Church  Missions,  Bible  Missions,  Hospitals,  Dispensaries, 
Industrial  Schools,  Day  Nurseries,  Model  Tenement  Houses,  and 
kindred  organizations.  When  the  local  committee  has  reported  the 
number  they  can  receive  their  list  is  apportioned  among  those  who 
have  children  to  send.  A  record  is  kept  of  all  organizations  and 
individuals  who  apply  for  a  share  in  the  benefits,  and  the  first  one 
to  apply  is  called  upon  for  children  for  the  first  company-  to  start. 
Before  the  season  is  over  all  have  abundant  oj^portuuity  to  send 
their  most  needy  ones.  The  children  selected  manifest  all  degrees 
of  ignorance  of  the  country — from  those  who  imagine  they  know  all 
about  it,  having  played  under  the  trees  in  a  city  square,  to  the  boy 
who  was  shown  a  large  herd  of  Alderneys  by  his  farmer-host,  and, 
after  intently  watching  them  chew  the  cud,  asked,  "  Say,  mister,  do 
you  have  to  buy  gum  for  all  them  cows  to  chew  ?  " 

Those  who  apply  for  a  chance  to  send  their  children  to  the 
country  are  instructed  that  they  must  be  poor  and  needy,  without 
any  infectious  disease,  clean,  and  free  from  vermin.  A  physician 
then  inspects  each  child.  Dr.  C.  C.  Vinton  was  the  examining  phy- 
sician in  1890,  and  he  examined  nearly  fifteen  thousand  children, 
of  whom  about  five  thousand  were  sent  into  the  country.  Each 
day  the  Board  of  Health  furnished  a  list  of  the  houses  where  there 
was  any  contagious  disease ;  which  was  of  immense  help.  With 
that  list  before  him,  it  was  easy  for  the  examiner  to  stop  any  child 


136  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

who  came  from  an  infected  house.  The  majority  were  refused  on 
account  of  their  hopeless  condition  as  to  vermin.  It  is  a  herculean 
task  to  get  the  average  tenement-house  child  in  a  suitable  condition 
to  be  received  into  country  families. 

What  is  the  effect  of  entertaining-  these  poor  children  upon  their 
country  hosts  ?  Will  they  receive  such  guests  a  second  time  in 
their  homes  ?  Is  there  no  danger  in  bringing  children  directly  out 
of  their  low  surroundings  into  families  where  the  children  are  so 
differently  trained  ? 

The  danger  is  much  less  than  would  at  first  appear.  Those  who 
select  the  children  are,  for  the  most  j^art,  trained  workers  who  have 
a  personal  knowledge  of  each  child  and  its  surrounding,  and  they 
send  only  such  as  are  considered  somewhat  fitted  to  enter  the  new 
home.  The  judgment  of  these  Christian  workers  is  by  no  means 
infallible,  yet  the  average  result  is  remarkably  good.  The  children 
are  on  their  good  behavior.  Self-respect  is  engendered.  The  en- 
tirely new  and  comfortable  surroundings  usually  bring  out  the 
best  in  the  child,  and  the  fortnight's  vacation  is  over  before  the 
novelty  has  worn  off. 

A  clergyman  in  northern  New  York,  after  having  entertained  one 
hundred  children,  wrote  as  follows  :  "  They  have  left  a  rich  bless- 
ing behind  them,  and  they  actually  gave  more  than  they  received. 
They  have  touched  the  hearts  of  the  people  and  opened  the  foun- 
tains of  love,  sympathy,  and  charity.  The  people  have  read  about 
the  importance  of  benevolence,  and  have  heard  many  sermons  on 
the  beauty  of  charity  ;  but  these  have  been  quickly  forgotten.  The 
children  have  been  an  object-lesson  that  will  long  live  in  their 
hearts  and  minds." 

"We  want  to  thank  you,"  wrote  another  minister  from  Massa- 
chusetts, "  for  giving  us  this  opportunity  to  do  so  much  good. 
Any  inconvenience  to  which  we  have  been  put  during  the  two 
weeks  is  insignificant  now,  as  we  look  at  these  thirt}^  glad  faces  and 
think  of  the  purifying  and  strengthening  influences  that  have  come 


THE  STORY  OF   THE  FRESH- AIR  FUND  137 

into  their  younq-  lives  during"  these  two  weeks'  stay  with  us." 
These  two  letters  are  fair  samples  of  hundreds  of  others  I  receive 
every  year. 

Many  people  become  strongly  attached  to  the  children,  and  fol- 
low them  into  their  wretched  homes  with  letters  and  substantial 
gifts.  These  country  letters  are  highly  prized  and  religiously 
guarded.  Nearly  two  thousand  of  these  letters  were  forwarded  to 
me  last  year,  containing  invitations  for  the  child  to  repeat  the  visit. 
I  can  now  recall  no  community  where  hospitality  has  been  given 
once,  but  that  some  children  have  been  invited  back  the  following- 
years. 

The  success  of  the  charity  turns  upon  the  country  friends'  will- 
ingness to  receive  the  children  into  their  homes,  and  as  yet  thej^ 
have  shown  no  sig-ns  of  being  weary  in  this  service  ;  each  year  the 
number  of  free  places  has  increased.  To  the  hospitable  country 
family  the  larg-est  share  of  the  work  has  fallen,  both  in  practical 
care  and  personal  toucli.  To  them  belongs  the  g-reatest  credit ! 
They  have  g-iven  hospitality  and  a  rich  laersonal  service  during-  the 
Imsiest  days  of  the  year.  It  is  given  too — not  grudgingly,  but  with 
wonderful  heartiness. 

Nothing  has  ever  so  strengthened  my  faith  in  humanity  as  the 
kind  and  loving-  way  the  country  i:)eople  have  received  these 
stranger  guests. 

Is  there  in  the  fortnight's  outing  for  the  poor  anything-  more 
than  a  merely  pleasant  holiday  ?  AMiat  good  can  accrue  from  tak- 
ing a  child  out  of  its  wretched  home,  and  after  two  weeks  of  com- 
fort and  decent  living,  sending  it  back  to  its  old  surroundings  ? 
One  minister  writes :  "  It  will  only  make  the  child  discontented 
with  the  surroundings  where  God  placed  him." 

I  contend  that  a  great  gain  has  been  made,  if  you  can  only  suc- 
ceed in  making-  the  tenement-house  child  thoroughly  discontented 
with  his  lot.  There  is  some  hope  then  of  his  getting  out  of  it  and 
rising  to  a  higher  plane.     The  new  life  he  sees  in  the  country,  the 


138  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT   CITIES 

contact  with  good  people,  not  at  arm's  length,  but  in  their  homes; 
not  at  tlie  dinner,  feast,  or  entertainment  given  to  him  while  the 
giver  stands  by  and  looks  doivn  to  see  how  he  enjoys  it,  and  re- 
marks on  his  forlorn  appearance  ;  but  brought  into  the  family  and 
given  a  seat  at  the  table,  where,  as  one  boy  wrote  home,  "  I  can 
have  two  pieces  of  pie  if  I  want,  and  nobody  says  nothing  if  I  take 
three  pieces  of  cake  ;  "  or,  as  a  little  girl  reported,  where  "  We  have 
lots  to  eat,  and  so  much  to  eat  that  we  could  not  tell  you  how  much 
we  get  to  eat." 

This  is  quite  a  different  kind  of  service,  and  has  resulted  in  the 
complete  transformation  of  many  a  child.  It  has  gone  back  to  its 
wretchedness,  to  be  sure,  but  in  hundreds  of  instances  about  which 
I  have  personally  known  it  has  returned  with  head  and  heart  full  of 
ncAV  ways,  new  ideas  of  decent  living,  and  has  successfully  taught 
the  shiftless  parents  the  better  way.  One,  little  girl  talked  so  much 
of  her  trill  and  described  the  country  life  in  such  glowing  terms, 
that  her  father  came  to  inquire  where  it  was  his  child  went,  add- 
ing, "  I  should  think  it  was  Heaven,  from  the  way  she  talks 
about  it." 

Many  a  girl  has  begun,  immediately  on  her  return,  to  persuade 
her  mother  to  adopt  the  ways  of  the  country  mother.  In  scores  of 
instances  that  have  come  under  my  personal  observation,  children 
have  become  so  delighted  with  the  country  life,  with  its  possibili- 
ties for  the  poor,  that  they  have  persuaded  the  family  to  migrate, 
the  country  friends  gladly  helping  them  to  a  home,  and  giving 
work  to  make  them  independent. 

One  of  the  most  serious  problems  of  country  life  is  to  get  help 
for  the  necessary  household  work  ;  to  be  sure  the  few  hundred  peo- 
ple that  have  been  helped  by  this  charity  to  locate  permanently  in 
the  country  is  but  a  drop  in  the  bucket,  and  does  not  go  far  tow- 
ard solving  the  "  help  "  question  ;  still  it  is  a  little  aid  in  the  right 
direction. 

Even  supposing  it  was  nothing  but  a  bright  and  pleasant  holi- 
day, and  that  after  the  two  weets  of  good  and  wholesome  food, 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  FRESH-AIR  FUND  139 

Avith  pure  air  to  breathe,  the  children  were  to  go  back  to  their  okl 
life — that  is  no  small  gain.  We  who  do  not  live  in  tenements  and, 
perhaps,  are  not  obliged  to  work  till  the  cheek  grows  pale,  never 
think  of  objecting,  when  it  comes  our  time  for  a  fortnight's  rest, 
because  after  the  holiday  we  must  return  to  our  toilsome  place. 
The  change  is  thought  necessary  for  those  avIio  have  everything  to 
make  it  least  necessary ;  then  certainly  the  holiday  is  none  the  less 
beneficial  for  those  whose  whole  life  has  been  simply  an  exhaust- 
ing battle  with  fearful  odds  against  them. 

A  physician  tells  us  we  must  take  the  loved  one  to  a  different 
climate  if  we  would  save  his  life,  and  we  lose  no  time  in  obeying 
his  orders.  To  thousands  of  the  poor  the  same  words  have  been 
spoken.  The  same  change  was  the  only  hope ;  and  the  only 
change  possible  was,  perhaps,  a  ride  on  the  ferry-boat.  To  thou- 
sands of  poor  mothers  the  physicians  have  said,  "  Your  child  only 
needs  pure  air.  with  wholesome  and  nutritious  food."  Perhaps 
delicacies  to  tempt  the  appetite  have  been  ordered  when  only  the 
plainest  and  coarsest  necessaries  are  procurable.  In  thousands  of 
such  cases  the  Fresh-Air  Fund  has  come  to  the  rescue,  and  given 
both  the  pure  air  and  the  wholesome  food,  with  results  most 
happy. 

Let  me  give  two  or  three  instances  where  the  moral  influences 
exerted  by  the  simple  and  kindly  life  (sometimes  with  eccentric 
peojjle),  have  resulted  most  happily  on  the  child. 

In  1878  a  Mrs.  Y ,  who  was  noted  far  and  wide  for  her  pe- 

nuriousness,  wrote  me :  "  Homes  are  ready  with  me  for  two  boys 
and  two  girls,  if  your  work  is  for  the  virtuous  class  of  unfortunate 
children.  Please  be  plain  and  frank  in  the  matter,  for  I  don't  wish 
to  have  anything  to  do  with  a  work  that  is  not  all  right.  God  give 
you  wisdom.''  The  italics  are  not  mine.  Someone  had  frightened 
her  by  the  statement  that  all  the  poor  city  children  were  illegiti- 
mate. 

One  of  the  quartet  sent  to  this  place  was  a  little  fellow  from  one 
of  the  most  wretched  homes  that  drink  has  caused.     The  boy  had 


140  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

never  before  known  kind  treatment,  and  the  pure,  simple,  and 
wholesome  life,  Avith  the  abundant  food  of  the  hillside  farm,  stirred 
his  nature  to  the  very  depths  and  called  out  all  his  latent  energies. 
A  few  months  ag-o,  while  in  a  bank,  a  Avell-dressed  fellow  immedi- 
ately behind  me  in  the  line,  reached  out  his  hand,  saying : 

"  I  suppose  you  don't  know  me  ;  but  I  am  Henry  C ." 

"  Why,"  said  I,  "  you  must  be  the  boy  that  Mrs.  Y spanked 

and  fitted  out  with  a  complete  suit  of  homespun,  with  the  jacket 
sleeves  of  a  different  color  !  " 

"  Yes,  I  am  the  identical  boy.  I  can't  tell  w^hether  it  was  due  to 
the  spanking  or  to  the  Joseph  -  like  coat,  but  that  two  weeks 
changed  my  whole  life.  I  went  to  work  when  I  came  back,  and 
have  been  wdtli  the  same  firm  ever  since.  See  here,"  said  he,  and 
he  opened  his  bank-book,  showing  several  thousand  dollars  he  was 
about  to  deposit  for  the  firm,  "  don't  that  look  as  though  the  firm 
had  confidence  in  me  ?  I  literally  came  up  out  of  the  very  lowest 
slums,  and  my  present  prosperous  condition  is  due  to  the  interest 
that  family  in  the  country  has  always  taken  in  me  since  my  visit 
with  them  in  1878." 

In  the  earlier  days  of  the  work  a  bright  boy  of  ten  was  one  of  a 
company  invited  to  Schoharie  County,  N.  Y.  He  endeared  him- 
self so  thoroughly  to  his  entertainers,  who  "  live  in  a  Avhite  house 
with  green  blinds  and  Christmas-trees  all  around  it,"  that  they 
asked  and  received  permission  to  keep  the  lad  permanently.  The 
following  is  an  exact  copy  of  a  part  of  the  letter  he  wrote  home 
after  he  had  been  for  a  few  months  in  his  new  home : 

DEAPi  MOTHER 

i  am  still  to  Mrs.  D and  i  was  so  Busy  that  i  Could  not  Write  Sooner  i 

drive  the  horses  and  put  up  the  Cows  and  clean  out  the  Cow  Stable  i  am  all 
well  i  pick  stones  and  i  have  an  apple  tree  6  Feet  High  and  I  have  got  a  pair  of 

new  pants  and  a  new  Coat  and  a  pair  of  Suspenders  and  Mr.  D is  getting  a 

pair  of  New  Boots  made  for  me     We  killed  one  pig  and  one  Cow  i  am  going  to 

plow  a  little  piece  of  land  and  plant  Some  Corn.     When  Mr.  D killed  the 

Cow  i  helped  and  Mr.  D had  to  take  the  Cow  skin  to  be  taned  to  make 

leather  and  Mr.  D gave  the  man  Cow  skin  for  leather  to  make  me  Boots  i 


THE  STORY  OF   THE  FRESH- AIR  FUND  141 

am  going  to  school  to-morrow  and  i  want  to  tell  lizzie — panline — Charlie- 
Christie — maggie — george  and  you  to  all  write  to  me  and  if  they  all  do  when 
Christmas  Comes  i  will  send  all  of  you  something  nice  if  my  uncle  frank  comes 
to  see  yous  you  must  tell  him  to  write  to  me  i  Close  my  letter 

From  your  oldest  son  A . 

A  year  after  that  time  tlie  mother  died.  Some  time  afterward 
an  uncle  beg-an  Avriting-  for  the  hxd  to  come  back  to  the  city — 
he  coveted  his  small  earnings.  But  the  little  fellow  had  sense 
enough  to  see  that  he  was  better  off  where  he  was.  Finally  the 
uncle  went  after  the  boy,  and  told  him  his  brother  was  dying  in 
the  hospital,  and  was  calling"  constantly  for  him.  Under  such  cir- 
cumstances his  foster  parents  readily  gave  him  permission  to  re- 
turn with  the  uncle  for  a  visit.  Before  they  reached  the  city,  the 
uncle  told  him  he  should  never  go  back.  He  sent  him  to  work  at 
Eleventh  Avenue  and  Twenty-ninth  Street,  in  a  Avork-room  situated 
in  the  cellar,  and  his  bedroom,  like  those  in  most  tenement-houses, 
had  no  outside  window.  The  third  day  he  was  sent  ujostairs  on  an 
errand,  and  as  soon  as  he  saw  the  open  door  he  bolted.  He  remem- 
bered that  a  car  that  passed  Fourth  Street  and  Avenue  C,  would 
take  him  to  the  People's  Line  for  Albany.  He  ran  with  all  his 
might  to  Fourth  Street,  and  then  followed  the  car-tracks  till  he  saw 
on  the  large  flag  "  Peoples'  Line."  He  told  part  of  his  story  to 
the  clerk,  and  finally  added,  "I  am  one  of  Mr.  Parsons'  Fresh-Air 
boys,  and  I  have  got  to  go  to  Albany."  That  settled  the  matter, 
and  the  clerk  readily  gave  him  a  pass,  A  gentleman  standing  by 
gave  him  a  quarter  for  his  supper.  He  held  on  to  his  appetite  as 
well  as  his  quarter  ;  and  in  the  morning  laid  his  twenty-five  cents 
before    the    ticket    agent   at   Albany,    and   called   for   a   ticket   to 

E ,  a  small  place  fifty  miles  distant.  .  He  got  the  ticket.     After 

a  few  miles'  walk  from  R he  reached  his  new  home  safely, 

and  there  he  proposed  to  stay.  He  said  he  would  take  to  the 
woods  if  his  uncle  came  after  him  again.  This  transpired  fourteen 
years  ago. 

Several  years  ago,  a  letter  came  from  the  young  fellow.     He  is 


14:2  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

now  an  active  Christian,  married,  and  Avortli  property,  and  expects 
in  a  few  years  to  have  his  farm  all  paid  for. 

Not  long-  ag-o  I  was  stopped  on  Broadway  by  a  well-dressed  and 
prosperous-looking-  young  man. 

"  I  am  one  of  your  Fresh-Air  boys— I  am  John ."     I  readily 

recalled  the  boy.  In  1878  he  was  one  of  a  party  taken  to  central 
NeAV  York.  It  had  been  a  hot  and  very  dusty  ride,  and  at  the  end 
of  the  journey  this  Five  Points  boy  looked  so  thoroughly  disrepu- 
table, that  the  person  who  was  to  take  him  utterly  refused  to  ac- 
cept such  a  dirty  and  ill-looking  boy.  The  tears  of  the  lad,  when 
he  found  that  no  one  wanted  him,  Howed  in  streams  down  his  dirty 
face,  while  the  two  tear-washed  streaks,  the  red  and  white  and  black 
spots  about  liis  eyes  and  mouth,  gave  him  a  most  unpromising 
look.  Before  I  reached  the  hotel  with  the  sobbing  and  "  left  over  " 
boy  a  man  came  out  of  a  small  butcher  shop,  and  so  heartily  and 
kindly  invited  the  boy  to  stay  with  him  that  the  tears  ceased  in- 
stantly. A  thorougli  bath  and  a  new  suit  made  a  wonderful  trans- 
formation. The  family  took  a  great  interest  in  and  became 
strongly  attached  to  him.  The  chang-e  from  the  wretched  Cherry 
Street  tenement,  with  its  drunken  and  often  brutal  parents,  to  the 
clean  and  cheerful  family  of  the  butcher,  where  he  was  kindly 
treated,  made  a  strong  impression.  The  family  kept  track  of  the 
boy  by  corresponding  with  him,  and  have  claimed  a  visit  from  him 
every.year  since.  He  is  now  married,  lives  in  a  comfortable  Hat, 
and  has  a  good  position  as  a  commercial  traveller. 

Each  child  was  chosen  the  first  year  on  account  of  its  physical 
needs.  The  late  Dr.  White,  of  Brooklyn,  most  carefully  examined 
every  child  sent  out,  the  entire  sixty  having  passed  through  his 
hands.  He  kept  a  careful  record,  and  the  following  extracts  from 
a  report  which  he  submitted  to  a  medical  society  will  show  the 
success  of  the  undertaking  on  its  physical  side  : 

All  were  taken  from  the  very  poor,  though  not  from  the  class  that  usnally 
beg  from  door  to  door.     They  were  selected  mainly  with  reference  to  their 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  FRESH- AIR  FUND  143 

physical  condition,  and  were  suffering  more  or  less  with  some  clironio  disease, 
born  of  neglect,  privation,  filth,  and  foul  air.  Prominent  among  the  diseases 
represented  were  scrofula,  consumption,  chronic  bronchitis,  asthma,  hip-joint, 
and  spinal  troubles.  Among  them  were  confirmed  cripples,  as  well  as  those  in 
the  incipient  stage  of  more  or  less  incurable  diseases  ;  while  others  were  simjily 
in  bad  health,  delicate,  or  sickly,  the  result  of  impure  air  or  insufficient  and 
imj^roper  food.  Enfeebled  by  want  and  disease,  bred  in  poverty  and  filth,  no 
wonder  their  faces,  for  the  most  part,  were  thin,  pale,  and  haggard,  and  even 
their  smiles  feeble  and  sicklv. 

Of  the  effects  of  the  trips  he  says  generally  : 

Appetites  improved,  coughs  ceased  to  be  troublesome,  ulcers  healed,  grow- 
ing deformities  were  arrested,  cheeks  filled  out  and  grew  ruddy,  spirits  became 
buoyant,  the  step  elastic  and  childlike,  while  the  sickly  smile  gave  place  to  the 
hearty  laugh  of  childhood ;  or,  as  very  happily  ex^iressed  by  a  friend,  "They 
went  out  men  and  women — they  came  back  little  children." 

To  the  educated  physicians  to  whom  the  report  was  addressed 
this  general  statement  meant  a  good  deal  more  than  the  words  in- 
dicate to  most  laymen.  We  who  are  not  physicians  do  not  under- 
stand as  physicians  do  how  important  the  general  building  up  of 
the  system  is  in  the  treatment  of  positive  disease,  and  very  few 
persons  not  trained  in  the  medical  schools  would  think  of  a  hy- 
gienic vacation  as  an  effective  method  of  treating  physical  deform- 
ity. In  such  a  case  we  should  hope  to  make  the  unfortunate  child 
happier,  perhaps,  by  sending  him  to  the  country,  but  beyond  that 
v;e  should  not  venture  to  hope  for  good.  Yet  here  is  what  the 
physician  reported  to  his  associates  of  such  a  case  : 

Another  marked  case  of  improvement  was  a  boy,  five  years  of  age,  who  had 
been  suffering  more  than  a  year  with  disease  of  the  upper  dorsal  vertebrse. 
The  disease  had  been  detected  in  its  earliest  stages,  and  as  the  mother,  a  widow 
with  five  young  children,  was  very  poor  and  unable  to  give  i:)roper  care  or  suit- 
able food  to  the  little  patient,  I  had  him  sent  to  a  hospital  established  for 
treating  such  cases,  expecting  he  would  receive  such  special  treatment  as 
his  case  required.  After  a  residence  of  some  months  in  the  hospital,  finding 
that  nothing  was  done  for  him  excepting  allowing  him  to  live  there,  and  that  he 
was  constantly  growing  worse,  the  mother  clandestinely  brought  him  away.  I 
found  him  in  constant  pain,  nights  restless  and  sleepless,  appetite  gone,  emaci- 


144  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

ation  extreme,  and  deformity  increasing.  In  that  condition  lie  went  to  the 
country  with  his  little  brother,  seven  years  old,  for  nurse  and  guardian.  A  few 
weeks'  residence  there  produced  a  marvellous  change.  He  came  back  hale  and 
hearty,  health  completely  established— his  spinal  trouble  arrested— indeed, 
cured. 

That  little  fellow's  cure  cost  some  contributor  to  tlie  fund  about 
three  dollars,  and  a  family  in  the  country  a  fortnight's  hospi- 
tality. 

The  following-  are  additional  extracts  from  Dr.  White's  interest- 
ing report : 

The  whole  number  selected  under  my  own  supervision  was  sixty.  As  to 
diseases,  they  were  classified  as  follows  : 

General  debility 31 

Deformities 7 

Hip-joint  disease 5 

Spinal  disease   ^ 

Knee-joint  disease 1 

Consumption 5 

Bronchitis 4 

Chorea 3 

Chronic  ulcers 2 

Total 60 

All  those  whose  health  was  being  slowly  undermined  by  living  in  the  impure 
air  of  crowded  and  badly  ventilated  apartments,  or  from  insufficient  and  im- 
proper food,  as  well  as  those  enfeebled  by  a  previous  attack  of  some  acute  dis- 
ease, were  classed  under  the  head  of  General  Debility,  without  reference  to  the 
cause  of  their  physical  condition.  Nearly  all  of  this  class  returned  home  com- 
pletely restored  to  health.  All  others  were  greatly  benefited  by  the  trip,  and, 
if  not  cured,  in  many  cases  with  disease  arrested  for  the  time  being  at  least. 
All  the  cases  of  consumption  improved.  One  young  woman,  aged  twenty-thi'ee, 
inheriting  phthisis  from  her  mother,  and  suffering  for  more  than  a  year  with 
hemorrhages,  harassing  cough,  and  profuse  expectoration,  was  so  exhausted  by 
the  trip  on  the  Annex  to  the  Erie  Railroad  depot  that  Mr.  Parsons  had  misgiv- 
ings about  the  propriety  of  her  going  on,  fearing  the  result.  She  was  carried 
through  safely,  though  soon  after  arriving  at  her  destination  an  attack  of  hem- 
orrhage prostrated  her  still  more.  She  returned,  after  an  absence  of  six  weeks, 
literally  another  being,  resuming  labor  which  sickness  had  interrui^ted,  in  the 
shop  where  she  still  continues  to  work. 


THE  STORY   OF  THE  FRESH- AIR  FUND  145 

I  afterward  learned  that  the  family  who  had  entertained  this 
girl  Avere  straining-  every  nerve  to  save  enough  to  pay  interest  on 
borrowed  money,  and  thus  avert  the  sale  of  their  farm.  While 
writing  this  article  I  have  heard  that  this  girl  is  now  living  in  a 
comfortable  home  of  her  own,  apparently  as  well  as  any  one ;  and 
it  was  only  last  summer  that  the  eldest  of  her  four  children  enjoyed 
the  farmer's  hospitality.  It  may  be  of  interest  to  add,  that  a  lady, 
who  had  been  interested  in  this  girl,  when  she  heard  of  the  farmer's 
financial  condition,  made  a  most  substantial  gift  to  help  him  out  of 
his  difficulty. 

Dr.  White  also  says  in  his  report  that  "  very  marked  improve- 
ment Avas  observed  in  nearly  all  cases  of  joint  and  spinal  diseases." 

I  have  given  more  space  to  this  report  of  the  first  year  of  the 
work  for  the  simple  reason  that  when  but  few  children  were  sent 
out,  it  was  comparatively  easy  to  watch  the  results  closely.  Now, 
while  many  thousands  are  sent  each  year,  selected  by  about  two 
hundred  difierent  workers,  it  is  far  more  difficult  and  well-nigh  im- 
possible to  have  a  personal  knowledge  of  many  of  the  children. 
Yet  I  am  fully  convinced  that  when  the  children  are  carefully 
chosen  the  same  good  results  always  obtain.  The  following  brief 
reports  from  responsible  people,  thoroughly  familiar  with  the 
work,  surely  su^^port  this  conviction  : 

The  superintendent  of  one  of  the  missions  that  has  sent  a  large 
number  of  children  into  the  country  says  :  "  In  the  fall  I  can  tell, 
by  just  looking  in  their  faces,  which  of  the  children  have  been  in 
the  country.  They  are  fatter,  ruddier,  and  their  whole  expression 
is  changed  and  improved." 

The  superintendent  of  another  of  the  Church  Missions,  who  is 
also  a  physician,  told  me  that  he  selected  the  weakly  ones  each 
year  for  the  country  trip,  and  he  found  the  benefit  so  great  that 
they  were  the  stronger  ones  during  the  winter.  He  instanced  sev- 
eral cases  where  particularly  puny  children,  predisposed  to  nervous 
and  lung  difficulties,  had  been  entirely  restored  to  robust  health. 

One  of  the  missionary  nurses  said  to  me  recently :  "  There  are 
lu 


146  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT   CITIES 

about  two  liuiidred  children  sent  to  the  comitry  fvom  our  mission 
each  year.  These  nearly  all  live  in  the  crowded  tenements  where 
four  families  occupy  each  floor.  I  constantly  visit  among  the  sick 
in  these  poor  families,  and  I  notice  that  those  children  who  had  a 
fortnight  in  the  country  are  much  stronger  physically,  and  the  im- 
proved condition  lasts  during  the  winter." 

The  chairman  of  the  local  committee  in  one  village  community 
weighed  every  child  in  the  party  on  arrival,  and  again  after  four- 
teen days  in  the  country.  The  average  age  was  ten  years.  The 
least  gain  was  shown  in  a  four-year-old  boy,  who  added  only  one 
pound  to  his  weight.  The  greatest  by  an  eleven-year-old  girl,  who 
gained  nine  pounds.  The  average  gain  for  the  entire  party  was 
four  and  nine-tenths  pounds. 

A  missionary  from  one  of  the  City  Mission  chapels  says :  "  Dur- 
ing the  eight  years  I  have  been  connected  with  this  chapel,  we  have 
sent  out  through  the  Fresh-Air  Fund  many  hundreds  of  children. 
I  believe  this  fortnight  in  the  country  to  be  of  incalculable  benefit, 
both  educationally  and  physically.  In  a  number  of  instances  the 
entire  family  of  a  beneficiary  of  the  fund  has  been  led  to  move  to 
the  country.  No  small  part  of  the  good  accomplished  is  the  build- 
ing up  of  health,  and  instances  come  constantly  to  my  notice  where 
the  two  weeks  in  the  country  have,  I  believe,  saved  the  life." 

Dr.  Vinton  says :  "  In  my  experience  of  several  years  I  have 
seen  much  benefit  received  physically  by  children  sent  into  the 
country  for  two  weeks.     The  first  child  I  sent  under  the   Trihune 

Fresh  -  Air   Fund   was   Annie   ,    whom    I   had   been    treating 

throughout  the  summer  for  St.  Vitus's  dance,  and  for  whom  place 
was  made  in  the  last  party  of  the  year.  She  came  back  after  two 
weeks,  rosy  -  cheeked  instead  of  pale,  heavier  by  a  number  of 
pounds,  and  without  any  trace  of  her  nervous  trouble." 

"  In  August,  1889,"  he  adds,  "  I  accompanied  a  party  of  about 
one  hundred  and  twenty  children  to  Franklinville,  N.  Y.,  and  again 
took  charge  of  them  on  their  return  to  the  city  two  weeks  later. 
The  improvement  in  the  physical  condition  of  many  of  these  cliil- 


THE  STORY  OF   THE  FRESH- AIR  FUND  147 

dren  was  very  noticeable,  eyes  and  faces  which  had  been  wan  and 
sunken,  bearing-  the  evidences  of  health.  The  same  changes  were 
noticed  in  a  party  I  brought  back  from  Waterville  in  the  summer 
of  1888,  most  of  whom  I  had  examined  two  weeks  previously." 

Dr.  Daniel,  who  has  long  taken  a  professional  interest  in  the 
work,  writes  to  me : 

In  1890  I  sent  235  children  on  excursions  of  the  Fresh-Air  Fund.  1  shall 
comment  upon  them  under  the  following  classification  : 

1.  Thirty-five  children  re-invited  by  their  hosts  of  former  years.  Of  these 
not  one  had  been  ill  during  the  preceding  year,  nor  has  been  since.  I  have 
either  seen  or  heard  directly  from  all  of  these,  and  for  obvious  reasons  these  are 
the  children  who  show  the  most  jihysical  improvement. 

2.  One  hundred  and  four  delicate  children,  i.e.,  children  who  are  weakly 
without  recent  acute  illness.  Of  this  number  1  can  count  thirty -five  who  were 
not  at  the  time  under  treatment  in  the  dispensary.  These  were  sent  either  to 
care  for  younger  children  or  because  they  were  not  very  strong.  All  were  bene- 
fited by  the  change,  as  far  as  I  know.  Of-  this  class  I  can  give  the  least  positive 
evidence  because  I  have  seen  possibly  only  one-half  of  them. 

3.  Forty-seven  children  recovering  from  acute  illness.  These  included  ty- 
phoid fever,  measles,  and  acute  pulmonary  diseases,  such  as  pneumonia  and 
bronchitis.  All  were  improved,  except  two,  increased  in  weight  and  with  bet- 
ter appetites. 

4.  Twenty-five  chronic  invalids.  These  included  consumptives,  those  suf- 
fering from  tuberculosis  of  the  glands,  chronic  heart  diseases  and  bone  dis- 
eases. Of  this  class  three  were  decidedly  worse  after  the  vacation,  and  the  rest 
were  slightly  improved ;  the  greatest  improvement  being  in  the  appetite.  All 
of  this  class  are  continually  under  my  observation. 

5.  Twenty-four  children  of  the  striking  cloak- makers.  This  class  showed 
the  most  improvement,  excepting  only  the  first  class.  These  children  were 
taken  into  the  country  simply  because  they  were  hungry  and  had  been  for  sev- 
eral weeks.  All  returned  very  much  imj^roved  in  appearance  and  evidently  in 
weight ;  the  pale  face  and  the  hungry  appearance  had  disappeared.  Doctor 
Brown  took  these  children  to  the  country  and  returned  with  them,  and  her 
testimony  agrees  with  mine.  I  have  seen  at  least  one-half  of  these  children 
since,  and  they  still  remain  well. 

1  should  classify  the  children  again  into  the  very  ^^oor,  that  is,  those  con- 
tinuously poor,  and  children  of  a  class  who  are  able  to  have  the  actual  necessa- 
ries of  life.  About  one-half  of  the  children  I  sent  last  summer  (not  including 
the  cloak-makers'  children)  belong  to  the  very  poor  class.  These  were  not  so 
much  benefited  as  the  better  class,  because,  1,  they  are  in  a  state  of  chronic 
hunger ;  2,  the  time  is  not  long  enough  to  make  much  of  an  improvement ;  and 


148  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

3,  the  slight  benefit  derived  is  not  permanent,  because  they  return  to  the  same 
mode  of  life. 

Of  the  two  hundred  and  thirty-five  children  twenty  lived  above  Fourteenth 
Street,  two  west  of  Broadway,  four  in  Hoboken,  and  the  others  lived  east  of  the 
Bowery  as  far  south  as  Chatham  Square  ;  fifty-seven  lived  in  rear  tenements, 
and  twenty-eight  in  basements. 

I  have  sent  children  for  six  or  seven  years,  but  have  not  definite  statistics, 
yet  my  impression  is  that  at  least  one-half  of  the  children  sent  are  improved 
physically.  The  most  marked  improvement  is  in  appetite  and  general  appear- 
ance. I  can  say  that  I  believe  the  Fresh-Air  Fund  is  the  best  plaster  we  have 
for  unjust  social  conditions  of  the  people. 

One  of  the  most  gratify  in  g-  results  of  this  Fresh- Air  enterprise 
has  been  the  readiness  with  wliich  the  idea  has  been  taken  np  hj 
others,  till  to-day  there  are  vacation  societies  for  about  every  class 
of  the  poor.  A  great  many  of  the  city  churches  now  provide  fresh 
air  for  the  sick  poor.  Various  societies  and  hospitals  have  their 
country  summer  homes.  Missions  have  their  cottages  by  the  sea. 
Working  girls'  vacation  societies  provide  a  fortnight  in  the  coun- 
try for  working  girls  who  need  the  change  ;  other  societies  have 
sprung  up  which  provide  for  mothers  both  Avith  and  without  young 
children.  King's  Daughters'  circles  open  houses  for  a  few  weeks 
or  for  the  season,  and  send  into  the  city  for  the  quota  of  inmates. 

The  Bartholdi  Creche  has  been  organized  to  help  women  with 
small  children  who  are  unable  to  leave  home  except  for  a  few  hours 
at  a  time.  New  York  Life  has  started  a  summer  village,  where  a 
deserted  hamlet,  containing  a  score  of  cottages  beautifully  shaded, 
is  turned  into  a  populous  village,  and  where  three  hundred  at  one 
time  can  find  ample  accommodations.  Unoccupied  houses  in  many 
a  town  have  been  temporarily  fitted  up  for  the  little  city  sufferers. 

During  the  last  few  years  there  has  been  a  number  of  perma- 
nent places  fitted  up  for  children.  At  these  homes  there  are  skilled 
people  to  manage  and  entertain  children,  and  most  excellent  residts 
are  obtained. 

The  best  results  are  obtained  where  the  children  are  received 
into  the  country  families,  for  there  the  great  moral  influences  are 
best  exerted,  yet  all  these  other  plans  do  a  vast  amount  of  good. 


THE  STORY  OF   THE  FRESH- AIR  FUND  149 

There  has  also  been  a  marked  growth  iu  the  direction  of  day  ex- 
cursions. More  than  a  score  of  times  last  summer  invitations  were 
sent  from  some  of  the  suburban  towns,  for  ten,  twenty,  or  one  hun- 
dred of  the  poor,  to  come  as  their  g-uests  for  a  day.  Transportation 
and  most  abundant  food  were  supplied.  One  gentleman,  who  only 
stipulated  that  his  name  should  not  be  published,  gives  for  the  en- 
tire season  the  use  of  a  grove  on  the  Hudson.  He  also  supplies  all 
the  money  for  barges,  music,  and  milk.  Through  the  generosity  of 
this  one  man,  more  than  one  hundred  and  thirty-six  thousand  of 
the  city  poor  have  had  a  day's  outing. 

Not  only  have  various  organizations  in  New  York  been  quick  to 
seize  hold  of  this  Fresh-Air  idea  and  adopt  some  phase  of  it  for 
their  own  poor,  but  the  interest  has  been  very  marked  in  other 
cities.  Committees  have  waited  upon  the  writer,  from  Boston  and 
Philadelphia,  or  have  sent  for  instructions,  to  aid  them  in  starting 
a  Fresh-Air  Fund  for  the  poor — in  each  of  these  cities  they  now 
have  a  prosperous  Country  Week.  Also  from  Hartford,  Troy,  Al- 
bany, Buffalo,  Chicago,  8t.  Louis,  Louisville,  Cincinnati,  Baltimore, 
and  San  Francisco,  have  inquiries  and  committees  come.  Quite  a 
number  of  other  cities  of  less  importance  have  also  sent  to  ascer- 
tain how  such  a  work  can  be  started. 

Committees  have  also  visited  New  York,  to  find  out  the  modus 
operandi,  from  Toronto,  Montreal,  St.  Johns,  and  London  and  Man- 
chester. Li  London  there  is  now  a  large  work  done  for  the  poor, 
either  in  the  way  of  day-trips  or  a  week's  stay  in  the  country.  Ger- 
many and  Italy,  too,  have  sent  for  information  on  the  subject. 
Dresden,  Stuttgart,  Vienna,  and  Berlin  have  each  joined  the  move- 
ment, and  there  is  now  a  prosperous  Fresh-Air  work  in  each  of 
these  cities.  Some  time  ago  a  lady  from  the  Sandwich  Lslands 
wrote  for  full  information  concerning  the  work.  She  was  to  pre- 
sent the  i^lans  in  detail  at  a  large  gathering  in  Honolulu.  The 
latest  call  for  reports  and  statistics  came  from  Russia. 

This  Fresh-Air  movement  all  began  in  a  small  hamlet  in  north- 
eastern Pennsylvania ;  among  a  small  flock,  not  one  of  whom  was 


150  THE  POOR  IN   GREAT  CITIES 

rich  euoug"li  to  purchase  the  most  modest  house  in  New  York.  The 
first  baud  numbered  only  nine — since  that  eighteen  cars  have  been 
necessary  to  accommodate  a  single  party.  The  little  enterprise  so 
simply  started  in  1877,  has  made  its  influence  felt  from  Canada  to 
South  America,  from  Boston  to  San  Francisco.  There  has  never 
been  an  org-anization  or  staff  of  officers.  The  constitution  and  by- 
laws are  made  and  amended  from  day  to  day  as  required,  and  have 
yet  to  be  written.  Perhaps  the  time  is  near  at  hand  when  the  work 
should  be  more  systematically  developed.  I  am  quite  certain  that 
a  large  number  of  skilled  and  paid  helpers  could  be  employed  with 
most  satisfactory  results. 


BOYS'  CLUBS  IN  NEW  YORK 

Br  EVERT  JANSEX  WENDELL 

The  Boys  of  the  Tenements — Street  Life— A  Boys"  Temptations— First  Idea 
OF  the  Boys'  Clubs— Their  Management — The  Boys'  Club  of  St.  Mark's 
Place — The  Avenue  C  Working  Boys'  Club — Classes  and  Amusements — 
Boys'  Club  op  Calvary  Parish — The  Free-reading-room  for  Boys — The 
Manor  Chapel  Boys'  Club — The  North  Side,  the  West  Side,  and  Other 
Clubs- Some  Club  Documents — Entertainments— Songs— The  Results — 
The  needs  of  a  Successful  Club  Worker. 

ANYONE  wlio  has  been  dowu  to  the  tenement-house  districts 
on  either  side  of  our  city  of  New  York,  knows  how  overrun 
they  are  with  boys  of  all  descriptions,  races,  and  sizes. 
Ever\'  doorway  pours  forth  its  little  quota,  and  it  is  sometimes 
Avitli  difficulty  that  one  can  thread  one's  way  through  the  crowds 
that  literally  swarm  about  the  sidewalks.  Some  are  playing-  quiet- 
ly ;  some  are  fighting  ;  some  are  "  passing  "  ball  when  the  police- 
man on  the  beat  is  not  in  sight ;  and  others  are  gathered  in  lit- 
tle groups  smoking  cigarettes,  pitching  pennies,  or  hatching  some 
scheme  for  fun  when  night  comes. 

Night  is  the  great  time  !  In  the  morning  many  of  them  are  at 
school,  and  the  streets  are  comparatively  deserted  ;  l)ut  in  the  af- 
ternoon, when  the  schools  let  out,  the  children,  with  all  the  pent- 
up  energy  produced  by  six  hours  of  repression,  descend  upon  them 
and  make  them  resound,  only  taking  time  to  rush  in  for  a  few  mo- 
ments at  supper-time,  and  then  out  again,  to  remain  as  late  as  is 
consistent  with  escaping  a  spanking  when  they  finally  come  in  for 
the  nisrht. 


152  THE  POOR  IX  GREAT  CITIES 

It  is  not  strange  that  thej'  seek  tlie  streets  when  one  realizes 
that  the  homes  of  many  of  them  consist  only  of  one  or  two  small 
rooms  in  a  tenement-house,  which  have  to  serve  as  parlor,  bed- 
room, and  kitchen,  for  father,  mother,  and  all  the  children — and 
families  are  not  apt  to  be  small  in  the  tenement-house  district.  A 
few  of  the  more  sober-minded  stay  in  at  night  to  prepare  their  les- 
sons for  the  next  daj^  or  to  help  the  mother  care  for  the  smaller 
children,  or  wash  the  dishes  ;  but  often  they  would  only  be  in  the 
way,  and  it  is  more  convenient  for  the  mother  to  have  them  off 
somewhere,  amusing  themselves,  than  under  her  feet,  as  she  sets 
the  little  home  to  rights,  and  the  father  wants  a  quiet  rest  after  his 
hard  daj-'s  work  ;  so  the  greater  part  of  the  children  naturally  seek 
the  streets  at  night — good  and  bad  alike — and  strong  must  the 
character  be  that  can  long  remain  untarnished  in  the  midst  of  all 
that  goes  on  there. 

Many  of  them  are  children  with  instincts  as  pure  and  high- 
minded  as  your  ovra,  if  only  they  could  be  rightly  trained  ;  chil- 
dren of  honest  and  hard-working  jjarents,  whose  influence  on  them 
during  the  short  time  that  their  daily  labor  permits  them  to  be  to- 
gether is  all  that  need  be  asked.  But  these  children,  from  force  of 
circumstances,  have  to  play  side  by  side  with  children  low  in  mind 
and  expression,  unwashed,  whose  home  influences  are  of  the  worst, 
and  who  drink,  smoke,  chew,  swear,  or  steal,  when  they  are  not  in 
the  gallery  of  some  cheap  theatre,  in  one  of  the  many  small  gam- 
bling -  dens  in  the  rear  of  an  innocent  -  looking  candy  or  grocery 
store,  or  "  scrapping "  in  some  dark  corner  far  enough  removed 
from  the  glare  of  the  saloons  to  render  their  movements  indistinct. 
All  about,  too,  are  groups  of  older  boys  just  approaching  manhood, 
or  its  age,  loafing  about  the  corners,  going  in  and  out  of  the  pool- 
rooms, telling  low  stories,  and  making  careless  remarks  to  the 
women  who  pass  by ;  while  the  not  unusual  spectacle  of  the  men, 
and  sometimes  women,  rolling  home  from  the  grog-shops,  com- 
pletes a  picture  which  makes  it  patent  that  if  these  boys  are  to 
have  a  fair  chance  to   develoj)  good,  wholesome  characters,  some 


BOYS'    CLUBS  IX  XEW   YORK 


153 


Tr.e  Ca-perters'  S'cs — A.erue  C  Wc'V^'g  Brrs    C  jb. 


Other  alternative  must  be  offered  to  tliem  for  tlie  passing-  of  their 
evening-s. 

Something  must  be  provided  which  will  attract  them  from  the 
dirt  and  crime  of  the  sti^eets  to  places  where  they  will,  instead,  be 
surrounded  by  simple  cleanliness  and  good  breeding  ;  where  a  cor- 


154  THE  POOR  IX  GREAT   CITIES 

dial  welcome  will  take  the  place  of  the  rong-h  greetiugs  of  their 
street  companions,  and  where  they  will  have  everj'  opportunity  to 
jjass  an  evening  of  innocent  enjoyment,  restrained  onh-  by  having 
to  consider  the  comfort  and  pleasure  of  the  other  boys  about  them. 

It  is  from  force  of  circumstances  that  many  a  small  boy  has 
found  himself  in  court  on  a  charge  of  theft,  unmanageable  conduct, 
or  vagrancv — the  three  great  heads  under  which  our  iuvenile  de- 
linquents  are  arraigned  !  Many  a  boy  has  been  taught  to  steal  bv 
an  older  companion  of  the  streets,  who  draws  a  wily  picture  of  how 
easy  it  will  be  for  him  to  tap  a  till  or  snatch  from  the  front  of  a 
store  the  coat  or  pair  of  shoes  he  can  exchange  at  the  pawnshop  for 
the  pennies  he  gets  so  few  of  at  home  :  who  shares  the  pennies,  if 
the  plan  prove  a  success,  and  who  leaves  him  to  his  fate  if  he  is 
caught.  Many  a  bo\'  has  become  unmanageable  at  home  because 
he  has  had  so  little  home  influence,  and  because  on  the  street  he 
has  been  continually  surrounded  by  boys  whose  disregard  for  home 
restraint,  and  contempt  for  those  who  are  bound  by  it,  are  very  in- 
fectious when  no  one  is  b\'  to  say  a  word  on  the  other  side.  Many 
a  boy  has  been  found  sleeping*  in  a  box  or  a  wagon  because  he  has 
been  beguiled  by  flaring-  advertisements  to  go  with  "  the  rest  of  the 
fellers  "  into  the  top  gallery  of  a  cheap  theatre,  and  has  emerg'ed 
again,  after  having  had  his  curiosity  improperly  satisfied,  at  so  late 
an  hour  that  he  honestly  feared  to  go  to  the  home  he  ought  to  have 
gone  to  two  or  three  hours  earlier,  and  face  his  angry  father — and 
in  each  case  the  trouble  has  been  brought  about  by  the  influences 
of  the  street,  with  no  one  by  to  counteract  them  or  to  ofler  any 
proper  alternative  in  place  of  their  attractions. 

Dirt  and  crime  go  hand  in  hand ;  and  if  you  can  teach  a  boy 
that  cleanliness  of  body  and  courtesy  of  manner  are  preferable  to 
unwashed  hands  and  surliness  of  speech,  you  will  have  helped  him 
forward  farther  than  you  know  on  his  road  to  resjiectable  man- 
hood. 

It  was  in  the  fall  of  1878  that  the  small  lioys  about  Tompkins 
Square,  having  exhausted  the   ordinary  methods  of  street  enjoy- 


> 
< 


UJ 

z 
o 
o 


vN^^'^ 


BOYS'   CLUBS  IN  NEW  YORK  157 

ment,  began  to  amuse  themselves  by  throwing-  stones  through  the 
windows  of  the  Wilson  Mission  at  No.  125  St,  Mark's  Place,  and  by 
jeering-  at  the  various  people  connected  Avith  it  as  they  passed  in 
and  out  of  the  building-.  These  customs  proving-  in  time  both  ex- 
pensive and  annoying-  to  the  ladies  and  g-entlemen  connected  with 
the  mission,  and  complaints  to  the  Police  Department  only  result- 
ing in  a  temporary  cessation  of  hostilities  whenever  the  lynx-eyed 
policeman  on  the  beat  appeared,  and  as  long  as  he  remained  in 
sight,  one  of  the  ladies  determined  to  try  the  soothing  effects  of 
coals  of  fire,  poured  metaphorically  upon  the  heads  of  the  offend- 
ing boys.  So  one  evening  she  answered  an  especially  irritating 
volley  of  stones  by  appearing  on  the  door-steps,  and  taking  advan- 
tage of  a  momentary  lull  in  the  cat-calls  which  her  appearance  had 
excited,  asked  the  boys  if  they  would  not  come  in  and  have  some 
coffee  and  cakes.  Visions  of  "  cops  "  with  clubs  behind  the  door 
naturalh^  occurred  to  the  minds  of  the  prospective  guests ;  but 
when  a  few  of  the  more  venturesome  had  sidled  in,  and  no  attacks, 
apparently,  had  been  made  on  them,  the  others  took  courage  and 
followed  them,  to  find  themselves  quietly  welcomed  to  the  simple 
repast  which  the  lady  had  plenteously  provided  as  the  most  practi- 
cal form  in  Avhich  to  administer  her  coals  of  fire.  Everyone  had  as 
much  as  he  wanted,  no  reference  was  made  to  the  cause  of  the 
broken  glass,  and  each  boy  was  treated  with  a  kindness  and  cour- 
tesy quite  unexpected,  in  vicAV  of  the  fact  that  within  a  few  mo- 
ments he  had  been  engaged  in  smashing  his  hostess's  windows. 
AVhen  the  supper  had  all  been  absorbed,  the  boys  were  sent  forth 
with  a  pleasant  good-night  to  ruminate  on  their  evening's  experi- 
ences, and  to  decide  which  part  of  the  evening  had  been  the  more 
enjoyable — defacing  the  exterior  of  the  mission  building,  or  being 
treated  with  kindness  and  courtesy  within  its  walls  ;  and  their  de- 
cision soon  became  apparent,  for  not  onl}^  did  the  annoyances  cease, 
but  the  boys  were  soon  back  again,  not  for  coffee  and  cakes,  but  to 
ask  if  they  could  not  come  in  and  play  games — though  there  was  lit- 
tle in  the  room  but  an  atmosphere  of  kindness  and  good-breeding. 


15S  THE  POOR  jy   GREAT  CITIES 

Then  more  boys  came  and  were  Aveleomed,  iuterested  friends 
sent  down  chairs  and  tables  and  games,  a  board  of  managers  was 
instituted,  and  so  the  first  boys'  ehib  was  started  on  the  broad  prin- 
ciple which  should  underlie  them  all,  of  hearty  welcome  for  any 
boy,  whatever  his  condition  or  belief,  who  prefers  an  evening-  of 
innocent  enjoyment  in  a  place  where  he  must  show  respect  and 
courtesy  to  all  about  him,  to  the  thoughtlessness  and  hidden  dan- 
gers of  an  evening  in  the  street. 

It  makes  no  diiference  what  a  boy's  religion  is — or  if  he  has  any  ! 
That  is  a  question  which  should  never  come  up  in  a  club  drawn 
fi'om  all  classes  in  a  crowded  district,  where  all  beliefs  and  no  be- 
liefs are  all  about  one.  Make  rules  for  the  government  of  the  clubs 
that  will  teach  boys  rather  to  be  good  citizens ;  that  will  teach  them 
thej^  have  duties  not  only  to  themselves  but  to  others  ;  that  will  teach 
them  to  stick  to  their  own  ideas  and  yet  to  respect  the  ideas  of 
other  people,  and  to  feel  that  the\'  have  not  done  their  part  if  they 
have  failed  to  show  consideration  and  courtesy  to  everyone  with 
whom  they  are  brought  in  contact — be  he  millionaire  or  be  he  news- 
boy !  This  is  Christian  love  and  sympathy  in  its  most  practical 
sense  ;  and  its  teaching  does  not  breed  dissension. 

The  Boys'  Club  is  now  in  its  seventeenth  year  of  work,  and  an 
average  attendance  of  over  two  hundred  and  lift}'  boys  a  night  was 
the  result  of  one  season's  first  three  months. 

When  boys  first  come  to  the  club  the  dirt  of  the  street  has  often 
rendered  them  quite  unprepared  to  handle  a  book  or  a  game  with- 
out seriously  damaging  its  condition :  but  the  desire  to  join  the 
other  boys  soon  leads  them  to  retire  to  the  neat  wash-room  adjoin- 
ing the  club-room  and  to  submit  to  the  temporary  discomfort  of 
washing  their  hands  ;  and  after  a  short  time  they  begin  to  prefer  a 
condition  of  mild  cleanliness,  and  either  come  with  clean  hands  to 
the  club,  or  retire  at  once  to  the  wash-room  on  their  arrival,  with- 
out waiting  for  the  superintendent's  hint  to  do  so. 

Occasionally,  too,  you  find  a  small  boy  who  has  been  beaten  at 
checkers  or  parchesi,  and  who  has  been  asked  by  his  victorious  op- 


BOYS'    CLUBS  IX  XEW  YORK  \f>d 

X^oneut  if  he  can  play  anxy  other  game  better,  rephing'  to  the  query 
hy  ■■  batting"  the  other  small  bo}-  over  the  head  ;  but  the  assault  is 
usuulh'  committed  with  as  much  self-restraiut  as  is  possible  under 
the  circumstances,  and  with  a  feeling  of  considerable  regret  on  the 
part  of  the  assailant  that  he  is  forced  to  avenge  the  insult  within 
the  walls  of  the  Boys'  Club.  A  nicer,  ludghter  lot  of  boys  you  will 
not  find  anywhere  than  you  can  see  there  of  an  evening.  Their 
clothes  are  not  made  at  Poole's,  nor  is  their  linen  of  the  finest,  when 
they  substitute  it  for  the  cotton  or  flannel  shirts  in  which  they  look 
so  much  more  pictu3*esque ;  but  their  bright  smiles  and  cheery 
gieetings  show  that  their  hearts  are  in  the  right  place,  and  that  the 
influences  of  the  Boys"  Club  have  not  been  exerted  in  vain. 

There  are  classes  in  singing,  writing,  and  book-keej^ing  for 
those  who  care  to  avail  of  them,  A  class  in  modelling,  a  year  or 
two  ago,  developed  a  latent  genius  who  is  now  working  at  a  good 
salary  in  an  art  museum,  and  has  almost  enough  laid  aside  to  go 
abroad  and  pursue  his  studies.  There  is  a  separate  meeting-room 
for  the  older  boys  whose  records  at  the  club  entitle  them  to  use  it ; 
and  a  penny  sa^•ings-bank  is  in  active  and  successful  operation. 
But  the  main  object  of  the  club  has  always  been  simi3ly  to  provide 
quiet  and  innocent  amusement  sufficiently  attractive  to  draw  the 
boys  away  from  the  danger  of  the  streets,  and  to  i)ut  into  their  lives 
the  softening  influences  they  are  not  apt  to  find  elsewhere. 

Those  who  knew  Tompkins  Square  before  the  club  was  staiied 
have  onlv  to  Avalk  through  it  now  to  see  at  once  the  different  chai- 
aeter  of  the  boys  there ;  and  those  who  did  not  know  it  before  need 
only  talk  with  the  neighbors  and  the  policemen  near  by,  to  con- 
^■ince  themselves  of  the  splendid  work  it  has  accomplished. 

The  Avenue  C  Working  Boys'  Club,  at  No.  650  Ecist  Fourteenth 
Street,  was  started  in  1884.  under  the  name  of  the  St,  Georges 
Boys'  Club,  and  in  its  first  two  years  of  existence  occupied  the 
basement  of  the  building  No,  207  East  Sixteenth  Street,  which  was 
then  i3ulled  down  to  make  room  for  the  St.  George's  Memorial 
House  that  now  stands  upon  the  same  site,  when  the  club  moved  to 


IGO 


THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 


No.  237  East  Twenty-first  Street,  still  retainiDg-  the  old  name, 
tliong-li  at  that  time  it  had  no  real  connection  with  St.  George's 
Church.  This  new  house  was  of  four  stories,  of  which  the  basement 
was  given  to  the  janitor  and  his  family,  the  parlor  floor  and  the 

second  story  were  devoted 
to  club  purposes,  and  the 
upper  floor  w^as  reuteel  to 
unhapiiy  tenants. 

At  first  the  club  was 
conducted  on  the  princi- 
ple of  the  Boys'  Club  of 
St.  Mark's  Place,  and 
aimed  only  to  offer  coun- 
ter-attractions to  those  of 
the  street ;  but  the  signal 
success  of  a  class  in  t\'pe- 
setting,  which  had  been 
started  as  an  experiment, 
so  impressed  the  mana- 
gers that  they  decided  to 
concentrate  their  energies 
on  the  teaching  of  trades  ; 
and  a  kindly  ofter  being 
made  to  them  by  the 
Avenue  C  I  n  d  u  s  t  r  i  a  1 
Schools  of  the  use  of  a 
beautifully  appointed  lit- 
tle carpenter  shop,  with  benches  and  tools  complete,  in  the  new 
building  at  the  corner  of  Fourteenth  Street  and  Avenue  C,  they  de- 
cided to  leave  the  house  in  Twentv-first  Street,  after  two  verv  sue- 
cessful  seasons,  and  moved  to  their  new  home,  where  classes  were 
established  in  carpentering  and  type-setting.*     There  are  fift}"  boys 

*  At  present  (1895)  the  club  is  carrying  on  its  work  most  successfully  in  more  com- 
modious quarters  at  No.  2G9  Avenue  C,  near  Sixteenth  Street. 


Type-setting  at  the   Avenue   C  Working  Boys'  Club. 


BOYS'   CLUBS  ly  XEW  FORK  IGl 

in  tlie  classes,  each  of  whom  receives  two  lessons  a  Aveek  in  either 
one  of  these  trades,  from  skilled  and  practical  instructors. 

The  carpenter's  shop  is  beautifully  appointed,  there  being-  six 
benches,  each  one  large  enough  to  accommodate  two  boys ;  each 
boy  has  his  kit  of  tools,  as  good  in  every  respect  as  those  used  by 
regular  cari:»enters  ;  and  the  chairs  and  tables  and  l3ook-cases  they 
turn  out,  not  to  speak  of  brackets  and  smaller  articles  of  fiuTiiture 
and  decoration,  many  a  man  might  well  feel  proud  of  having  made. 

The  printing  class  is  also  in  a  flourishing  condition,  the  lx>ys 
having  so  far  mastered  the  intricacies  of  setting  and  distributing 
tyjie  that  they  have  been  able  to  take  in  job  printing,  \s-ith  most 
creditable  results ;  and  it  is  purposed  before  long  to  publish  a 
small  i^aper,  to  appear  monthly,  an  exiDeriment  which  had  been  in- 
stituted with  success  in  the  old  Twenty-first  Street  house,  but  which 
had  been  discontinued  on  moving  to  the  present  quarters  on  ac- 
count of  so  many  of  the  boys  being  new  to  the  work. 

A  number  of  the  bovs  in  the  classes  have  resrular  work  at  these 
same  trades  in  the  daytime,  and  the  instruction  in  the  club  has  led, 
in  many  cases,  to  a  decided  increase  in  their  weekly  salaries.  One 
of  the  managers  takes  charge  of  the  savings  of  such  lx>ys  as  desire 
it.  and,  when  they  have  enough,  helps  them  to  open  accounts  in  a 
savings-bank ;  and  some  of  the  boys  who  have  started  in  this  way, 
now  have  two  or  three  hundi'ed  dollars  to  their  credit.  There  is  al- 
ways a  list  of  boys  waiting  to  get  into  the  classes,  and  if  a  boy  fails 
to  attend  regularly,  or  to  do  his  best  work,  his  place  is  filled  by 
someone  who  Avill  appreciate  the  advantages  more ;  but  these  cases 
do  not  often  occur.  The  boys  like  the  classes  too  well  to  want  to 
leave  them.  Medals  are  given  at  the  end  of  each  year  to  those 
who  have  done  the  best  work  in  the  classes ;  and  on  some  holiday 
in  the  spring,  usually  on  Decoration  Day,  the  managers  take  the 
boys  for  an  exciu*sion  to  the  countri",  the  pleasui-e  of  which  lasts  in 
remembrance  far  into  the  A\-inter. 

On  one  of  these  excui"sions  to  Searsdale,  one  of  the  oldest  boys 

in  the  party,  and  one  of  the  best  workei-s  in  his  class,  appeared  to 

11 


162  THE  POOR  IN  ORE  AT  CITIES 

be  especially  happy,  and  finally  confided  to  one  of  the  managers 
that  he  never  had  seen  a  real  g-reen  Held  before,  excepting-  in  the 
Park,  his  experience  having  been  confined  to  the  vacant  lots  in  the 
city,  filled  Avith  stones  and  broken  bottles,  in  which  the  boys 
played  ball ;  and  the  idea  of  a  natural  field  of  green  grass  in  which 
he  could  disport  at  pleasure  with  no  sparrow  policeman  to  chase 
him  off,  was  an  entirely  new  sensation.  This  was  a  boy  nearly  six- 
teen years  old. 

On  another  occasion  when  the  boys  of  the  old  club  were  being 
taken  in  a  special  car  to  Rockaway,  the  candy  and  pop-corn  boy  on 
the  train,  under  the  impression  that  it  was  a  demure  Sunday-school 
picnic,  entered,  as  usual,  and  tossed  his  packages  right  and  left 
with  that  amiable  lack  of  care  so  familiar  to  travellers  on  the  sub- 
urban railways,  and  with  every  expectation  of  reaijing  a  rich  har- 
vest. After  allowing  the  usual  two  or  three  minutes  for  reflection, 
he  again  entered  the  car,  to  find  every  candy -box  empty  on  the 
floor,  and  their  contents  being  rapidly  consumed  by  the  boys,  who 
proceeded  at  once  to  mob  him  when  he  attempted  to  collect  the 
value  of  his  indigestible  confections.  It  was  with  difficulty  that 
he  was  rescued,  and  with  more  difficulty  that  a  small  collection 
from  the  managers  restored  his  equanimity,  and  consoled  him  for 
his  broken  hat  and  the  total  loss  of  his  dignity. 

Another  of  the  excursions  was  by  water  to  Stateu  Island,  to  see 
"  Buflalo  Bill,"  on  a  large  excursion  boat  carrying  several  hundred 
passengers,  the  captain  entering  thoroughly  into  the  spirit  of  the 
occasion,  and  taking  a  sort  of  parental  interest  in  the  boys,  who 
were  all  gathered  together  in  the  bow  of  the  boat,  as  quiet  as 
lambs.  ' 

When  the  show  was  over  and  the  excursionists  began  to  return, 
the  captain  stood  on  the  gang-plank,  complacently  patting  his 
waistcoat,  and  wanting  to  know  if  "  our  boys  "  were  all  right,  and 
not  wanting  to  start  quite  on  time  for  fear  that  some  of  them  would 
be  left  behind — which  it  afterward  turned  out  was  the  case  with  two 
or  three.     By  the  time  this  was  discovered,  however,  it  was  no 


BOYS'  vj.uns  l^'  yEw  york 


103 


louger  a  source  of  regret  to  the  captain,  for  the  boys  (who  had  be- 
come somewhat  excited  by  two  hours  of  guns  and  bucking-horses 
and  Comanche  Indians,  and  who  were  standing  around  the  l)rass 
band  that  was  playing  on  the  deck),  were  somewhat  more  restless 
tlian  they  had  been  on  the  trip  down  ;  and  one  of  them  attempted 
to  relieve  his  pent-up  emotions  by  sticking  a  button  into  the  big 


A   Stereopticon   Lecture — the   Boys'   Club  of  the   Wilson   Mission. 


trombone,  with  the  effect  of  nearly  strangling  the  stout  gentleman- 
who  was  playing  on  it.  The  infuriated  musician  made  a  wild  dive 
for  the  boy,  who  proceeded  to  defend  himself  with  a  chair,  and  in 
a  moment  there  was  as  pretty  a  riot  as  one  would  care  to  see  all 
over  the  forward  deck — chairs  flying,  the  bandmen  swearing,  and 
the  boys  yelling  like  steam-whistles.  When  quiet  finally  Avas  re- 
stored by  the  extraction  of  the  button  from  the  trombone,  and  the 
relegation  of  the  boys  to  the  after-deck,  the  captain,  whose  ideas- 


1()4  THE  rooii  IN  GREAT   CITIES 

liad  niidci'g'one  a  suddeu  cliauge,  and  who  had  become  yery  red  iu 

the  face,  remarked  that  he  "  wouldn't  take  those  d ^d  boys  down 

to  Stateu  Island  again  for  ten  dollars  a  head." 

The  question  often  is  asked  as  to  which  kind  of  club  is  the  more 
desirable — one  in  which  trades  are  taught,  or  one  in  which  the 
boys  are  simply  entertained  ;  but  they  are  so  different  in  character 
that  a  fair  comparison  would  be  as  difficult  as  it  would  be  unneces- 
sary. There  is  no  doubt  that  the  teaching  of  trades  is  of  great  im- 
portance, and  that  the  work  done  by  a  cIuIj  of  that  character  meets 
a  very  important  need  ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  the  boys  who 
do  not  care  to  work  w^ho  are  much  more  apt  to  get  into  mischief  at 
night  on  the  street,  and  clubs  devoted  to  drawing  them  in  and  pro- 
viding them  with  innocent  amusements  fills  a  different  need,  but 
hardly  a  less  important  one. 

The  Boys'  Club  of  Calvary  Parish,  at  No.  344  East  Twenty-third 
Street,  was  started  about  six  years  ago,  shortly  after  the  present 
Avenue  C  Working-  Boys'  Club  left  that  district ;  and  it  has  met 
with  great  success,  many  of  the  boys  of  the  old  club,  and  no  end  of 
others,  having  enjoyed  its  i^rivileges.  In  addition  to  a  room  for 
books  and  games,  they  have  a  second  room  fitted  up  as  a  gymna- 
sium, with  trapezes,  horizontal  and  parallel  bars,  and  other  gym- 
nastic ai:)pliances,  and  the  evening  is  usually  divided  between  the 
two,  the  first  half  being  devoted  to  the  reading-room  and  the  sec- 
ond half  to  the  gymnasium,  the  boys  forming  in  line  at  a  given 
signal  and  being-  admitted  one  by  one  to  the  gymnasium  on  show- 
ing- their  tickets.  Then  the  rest  of  the  evening  is  given  ui?  to  exer- 
cise of  all  kinds,  some  going  in  for  using  the  apparatus,  and  others 
preferring  boxing,  single  stick,  or  w^restling,  for  which  the  gloves 
sticks,  and  mattresses  are  provided,  if  the  superintendent  has  time 
to  oversee  the  exercise  and  keep  it  within  proper  bounds.  Good- 
nature is  the  one  thing  insisted  on,  and  many  a  boy  receives  there 
a  valuable  lesson  in  self-control,  in  connection  with  a  mildly 
bruised  nose. 

They  also  have  a  small  printing  class,  and  it  is  purposed  to  is- 


BOYS'    CLUBS  IN  NEW   YORK 


165 


sue  periodically  a  small  paper  devoted  to  the  interests  of  boys' 
clubs  in  g-eneral,  which,  if  persisted  in,  will  do  much  g-ood  to  the 
cause. 

I  have  devoted 
considerable  space 
to  these  three  clubs 
from    their    being 
the  oldest  and  most 
complete   of  their 
respective  classes  ; 
but  other  clubs  that 
are  doing  splendid 
work  are  the  Free 
Reading-Room  for 
boys,  at  No.  68-70 
University     Place, 
formerly    at    18 
West    Seventeenth 
Street,    and,  later, 
at  No.  8  West  Four- 
teenth    Street, 
which  was  found- 
ed in  1883,  and 
at  which  the  to- 
tal  attendance 
during  the    last 
twelve  years  has 
reached      the  ^  „    , 

Entrance  to   Boys     Club   of  the   Wilson    Miss'On,    125   St    Mark's  Place 

enormous  num- 
ber of  316,913  boys ;  the  Manor  Chapel  Boys'  Club,  at  No.  348  AYest 
Twenty-sixth  Street,  which  has  an  average  attendance  of  about  fifty 
boys  a  night,  and  would  have  as  many  more  if  its  rooms  were 
larger ;  the  Boys'  Club  of  St.  George's  Church,  at  the  St.  George's 
Memorial  House  in  East  Sixteenth  Street,  near  Third  Avenue,  a 


1U6  THE  POOR  IK  GREAT   CITIES 

llourishin£»'  organization  with  about  three  hundred  members,  open 
-every  night,  but  so  arranged  that  different  boys  come  on  each  even- 
ing-, excepting-  on  AVednesdays,  when  they  all  come  tog-ether ;  the 
AVest  Side  AVorkiug-  Boys'  Club,  at  No.  794  Tenth  Avenue,  formerlj'- 
in  West  Forty-seventh  Street ;  the  Boys'  Clubs  of  the  University 
Settlement  at  No.  26  Delancey  Street ;  and  the  Boys'  Club  of  Grace 
Mission,  at  No.  540  East  Thirteenth  Street,  which  was  started  in 
1891,  and  with  which  the  Wayside  Boys'  Club,  formerly  iu  East 
Twentieth  Street,  and  later  at  the  Bible  House,  has  been  con- 
solidated. 

This  consolidation,  however,  was  not  accomplished  without 
some  friction,  as  the  following-  pathetic  little  letter,  which  is  be- 
fore me  as  I  write,  and  which  was  received  about  a  week  after  the 
new  club  had  opened,  by  the  former  j^resident  of  the  Wayside 
Boys'  Club,  will  show.  It  is  g-iven  without  chaug-e  of  any  kind  ex- 
cepting- the  omission  of  the  signers'  names  and  the  name  of  the 
lady  to  whom  it  is  addressed  : 

New  York,  Dec.  15,  1890. 

*' Dear  Mrs.  : 

"  Would  you  please  come  and  see  to  our  Wayside  Boys'  Club  ;  that  the  first 
lime  it  was  open  it  was  very  nice,  and  after  that  near  every  boy  iu  that  neigh- 
borhood came  walking  in.  And  if  you  would  be  so  kind  to  come  and  put  them 
out  it  would  be  a  great  pleasure  to  us. 

"  Mrs. ,  the  club  is  not  nice  any  more,  and  when  we  want  to  go  home, 

the  boys  would  wait  for  us  outside,  and  hit  you. 

"  Mrs. ,  since  them  boys  are  in  the  club  we  don't  have  any  games  to 

play  with,  and  if  we  do  play  with  the  games,  they  come  over  to  us  and  take  it 
off  us. 

"  And  by  so  doing  j^lease  oblige, 

,  President, 

,   Vice-President, 

,  Treasurer, 

,  Secretary, 

,  Floor  Manager. 

'■'  Please  excuse  the  writing.     I  was  in  baste. 

" ,  Treasurer." 

It  is  needless  to  state  that  the  interests  of  the  little  fellows — for 
none  of  the  signers  are  more  than  twelve  years  old,  and  most  of 


BOYS'    CLUBS  IN  KEW  YORK  167 

them  yomig'er — were  protected,  and  that  the  club  is  now  running 
to  the  satisfaction  of  all. 

All  these  clubs  are  open  every  night  excepting  in  summer,  and 
gladly  receive  as  members  any  boys  who  are  willing  to  conduct 
themselves  properly  while  in  the  club-rooms — the  only  limit  being 
space. 

In  addition  there  are  the  Covenant  Chapel  Boys'  Club,  at  No. 
310  East  Fortj^ -second  Street ;  the  Boys'  Club  of  Bethany  Church, 
on  Tenth  Avenue,  between  Thirty-fifth  and  Thirtj^-sixth  Streets  ; 
and  the  Boys'  Club  of  Christ  Chapel,  on  West  Sixty-sixth  Street, 
near  Tenth  Avenue  —  each  open  two  or  three  evenings  in  the 
week. 

The  membership  of  these  clubs  is  largely  composed  of  boys  con- 
nected with  the  Sunday-schools  of  these  churches — although,  occa- 
sionally, some  of  the  boys'  friends  are  admitted  also. 

In  summer,  from  June  to  October,  all  the  clubs  are  closed,  for 
no  one  wants  to  stay  indoors  during  the  hot  weather,  and  the  boys 
naturally  seek  the  open  air ;  but  the  streets  then  are  much  less  dan- 
gerous, both  on  account  of  darkness  coming  on  so  much  later  than 
in  winter,  and  because  hundreds  of  respectable  people,  who  in  win- 
ter stay  in  their  rooms,  sit,  in  summer,  out  in  front  of  their  houses, 
and  thus  render  questionable  practices  in  the  streets  much  less 
easy. 

All  the  clubs  have  libraries,  more  or  less  good  ;  some  of  them 
let  the  boys  take  books  home,  when  they  have  shown  themselves, 
by  good  behavior,  to  be  worthy  of  confidence  ;  man}"  of  them  have 
a  class  in  something,  to  interest  the  boys  who  care  to  work  ;  sev- 
eral have  pennj^  savings-banks  ;  all  of  them  have  games,  excepting 
the  x\venue  C  Working  Boy's  Club,  which  admits  only  the  boys 
who  come  to  attend  the  trade  classes  ;  a  number  have  debating  so- 
cieties, in  which  Aveighty  matters  of  world-wdde  interest  are  dis- 
cussed and  dismissed  with  a  rapidity  which  would  greatly  expedite 
our  national  legislation  if  the  system  could  be  successfully  intro- 
duced at  Washington  ;  two  or  three  of  them  give  their  members  an 


168 


THE  POOR  IN  GREAT   CITIES 


excursion  in  summer ;  and  they  all  give  the  boys  periodical  enter- 
tainments, some  as  often  as  once  a  week,  and  others  once  a  month, 
or  at  long-er  intervals. 

An  entertainment  is  the  boys'  greatest  delight,  especiall}^  when 
it  is  accompanied  by  ice  -  cream,  some  of  Avhich  a  number  always 
wrap  up   in   paper  —  or  stick  a  piece   into  their  pockets  without 


A  Good-natured   Scrap — Boys'   Club,   Calvary  Parish,   in  East  Twenty-third  Street. 


any  wrapper — to  take  to  the  little  brother  or  sister  at  home.  I 
only  remember  one  boy  who  ever  refused  ice-cream  at  an  enter- 
tainment, and  he  apologized  by  explaining  that  he  had  had  the 
colic  all  day,  and  his  mother  had  told  him  "  she'd  lick  him  if  he 
took  any." 

They  like  anything  in  the  form  of  an  entertainment — magic-lan- 
tern, stereopticon  lecture,  banjo-playing,  ventriloquism,  legerde- 
main,  any  kind  of  instrumental  music  that   is  not   too  classical, 


BOYS'   CLUBS  IX  NEW  YORK  169 

heroic  or  humorous  recitations,  and  especially  comic  or  sentimen- 
tal songs  in  which  they  can  join  in  the  chorus.  You  have  never 
heard  "  Annie  Eooney  "  or  "  McGinty  "  sung-  unless  you  have  heard 
it  sung  at  a  boys'  club :  nor  have  you  ever  heard  "  America  ""  sung 
as  they  can  sing  it.  Thanks  to  the  i^ublic  schools,  thej'  know 
nearly  all  the  more  familiar  national  and  patriotic  songs,  "  My 
Country,  tis  of  Thee,"  "  The  Eed,  White,  and  Blue, '  '"  Marching 
thro'  Georgia,"  '  Hail,  Columbia,"  and  "  The  Star-s^jangled  Ban- 
ner; '  and  the  life  and  earnestness  they  put  into  the  singing  of 
them  cannot  but  impress  anyone  who  hears  it  with  the  importance 
of  surrounding  them,  so  far  as  it  can  be  done,  with  influences  which 
will  tend  to  turn  their  enthusiasm  into  the  right  channels  and 
which  will  prevent  their  becoming  the  foes  to  society*  which  the 
roughness  of  street  life  is  so  apt  to  produce  when  thev  have  not 
had  a  fair  chance  to  see  the  gentler  side  of  life. 

Sometimes  they  parodj*  the  sentimental  songs  very  amusingly. 
One  of  the  popular  favorites  not  long  ago  was  a  song  with  a  very 
taking  air,  called  "  Don't  Leave  your  Mother,  Tom,"  of  which  the 
words  of  the  chorus  ran  as  follows  : 

"  Stick  to  TOUT  mother,  Tom,  when  I  am  gone ! 
Don't  let  her  woriy,  lad  ;  clon't  let  her  mourn. 
Remember  that  she  nursed  vou  when  I  was  far  away ; 
Stick  to  Toui"  mother  when  her  hair  turns  ^rav." 


o^ 


One  night  there  seemed  to  be  a  certain  disparity  in  the  rhyming 
of  the  chorus,  and  the  gentleman  who  was  playing  on  the  piano 
soon  became  aware  that  the  boys  were  singing  a  diliereut  version 
of  it  from  the  ordinary,  which,  on  persistent  investigation,  he  dis- 
covered to  be 

"  Stick  to  your  mother,  Tom.  while  she  has  wealth, 
Don't  do  a  stroke  of  work  :  it's  bad  for  the  health ; 
Be  a  corner  loafer — roam  aroand  all  dav, 
And  hit  her  with  a  shovel  when  her  hair  turns  gi-av." 

The  boys  are  usually  in  tine  form  at  an  enteriainment,  especial- 
ly an  entertainment  given  by  themselves,  when  solos  on  the  har- 


170  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

mouica,  piccolo,  and  clappers  are  interspersed  by  clog-dances,  vo- 
cal solos,  and  recitations ;  and  tliey  guy  each  other  unmercifully, 
thoug'h  not  more  so  than  I  have  heard  them  g'uy  other  people  ^svlio 
have  come  down  to  entertain  clubs  that  are  just  starting-. 

I  once  heard  a  boys'  club  audience,  which  was  being  entertained 
by  a  lady  playing  on  the  banjo,  take  advantage  of  the  fact  that 
her  dress  did  not  quite  reach  to  the  ground  to  comment  audibly 
upon  the  color  of  her  stockings ;  and  not  long  ago  I  heard  a 
dignified  missionary,  who  had  been  describing  the  spread  of  the 
Gospel  in  the  Far  East,  and  who  proposed  to  illustrate  Eastern 
customs  by  displaying  some  native  costumes  he  had  brought 
with  him,  instantly  cautioned  b}^  one  of  the  bo3^s  "  to  keei^  his 
shirt  on." 

Not  many  weeks  back  a  distinguished  financier  in  this  citj'  be- 
came possessed  of  a  large  magic  lantern,  with  which  on  festive  oc- 
casions he  was  wont  to  entertain  the  admiring  children  of  his 
family  ;  and  after  considerable  difficulty  he  was  induced  one  day  by 
one  of  his  daughters,  who  had  become  interested  in  a  boys'  club,  to 
display  it  before  the  club's  members. 

The  show  was  progressing  famously,  and  the  daughter  was 
beaming  with  pride,  when  one  of  the  boj's  suddenly  beckoned  to 
her,  and  isointing  to  the  distinguished  financier,  remarked  : 

"  What  der  yer  call  dat  bloke  ?  " 

"  Whom  do  you  mean  ?  "  asked  the  proud  daughter,  in  a  tone  of 
much  surprise,  being  quite  unaccustomed  to  hearing  the  distin- 
guished financier  described  as  a  "  bloke." 

"I  mean  dat  bloke  over  dere,  settin'  off  dem  picturs  T'- rep-lied 
the  boy. 

"  What  do  you  desire  to  know  about  him  ?  "  inquired  the  proud 
daughter,  with  freezing*  dignity. 

"  I  want  ter  know  what  yer  call  one  of  dem  fellers  dat  sets  off 
picturs  ?  "  persisted  the  boy. 

"  That  gentleman,"  said  the  proud  daughter,  in  her  most  im- 
pressive tone,  "  is  my  father." 


BOYS'    CLUBS  IN  NEW   YORK 


111 


^    \ 


A   Boys'   Club   Reading-Room. 


"Well!"  said  the  boy,  surveying"  her  with  supreme  contempt, 
"  (lon"t  yer  know  yer  own  father's  trade  %  " 

After  an  entertainment  given  at  the  Boys'  Club  of  St,  Mark's 
Place,  one  of  the  managers  discovered,  when  he  came  to  go  home, 
that  his  overcoat  had  been  taken   from  the  nail  on  Avhich  it  had 


172  THE  POOR  IX  GREAT  CITIES 

been  liniig-.  The  boys  had  all  gone,  and  there  was  no  possible 
way  of  discovering  the  culprit,  so  the  gentleman  went  home  with- 
out his  coat,  and  had  gotten  over  his  temporary  annoyance  and 
dismissed  the  matter  from  his  mind  when,  one  day,  most  unex- 
pectedly, the  overcoat  Avas  left  at  his  house,  accompanied  by  a  com- 
munication signed  by  more  than  two  hundred  l)oys  of  the  club, 
who,  at  the  instance  of  the  superintendent,  had  quietly  taken  the 
matter  in  charge,  had  traced  the  coat  to  a  x^awnshojD  where  the 
thief  had  left  it,  and  had  taken  up  a  collection  among  themselves 
to  get  it  out  of  pawn  and  restore  it  to  the  owner,  that  the  dignity 
and  self-respect  of  the  club  members  might  be  restored. 

The  gentleman  lent  me  the  communication,  which  also  is  before 
me  as  I  write,  and  which  reads  as  follows,  again  the  only  change 
being  the  omission  of  the  names : 

"January  15,   1891. 

'■  Deak  Sir  : 

"  We,  the  undersigned  members  of  the  Boy's  Chib,  have  taken  the  matter 
regarding  the  overcoat  which  was  taken  from  the  club-rooms  the  night  of  the 
entertainment,  into  consideration,  and  regret  to  say  that  it  makes  a  man  of  your 
rank  feel  very  uncomfortable  to  have  anything  like  that  occur  to  him.  We  beg 
to  state  that  one  of  the  members  of  the  club  has  succeeded  in  getting  the  pawn- 
ticket for  same.  This  is  the  first  time  that  anything  of  the  kind  has  occurred 
in  these  rooms,  and  it  was  through  the  utmost  work  of  Mr.  Rivolta  (the  superin- 
tendent) that  we  succeeded  in  restoring  the  overcoat  back  to  you. 

"Trusting  that  anything  of  the  sort  will  not  occur  again,  we  are, 

"  Very  truly  yours," 

and  then  follow  two  hundred  and  twenty-two  signatures. 

Could  anyone  ask  a  more  striking  example  of  the  civilizing  and 
elevating  effects  of  boys'  clubs  on  the  characters  of  the  little  chaps 
who  enjoy  their  iirivileges  than  is  afibrded  by  this  letter ! 

The  coat  was  gone,  there  was  no  way  of  getting  it  back,  and  the 
name  of  the  thief  was  not  known  ;  yet  the  boys  could  not  stand  the 
idea  that  anyone  who  had  been  kind  to  them  had  been  shabbily 
treated,  or  that  a  stain  should  rest  upon  the  reputation  of  their 
club ;  and  they  left  no  stone  unturned  until  their  own  exertions  and 


BOYS'   CLUBS  IN  NEW  YORK  173 

pockets  had  made  the  wrong-  good  and  thus  their  self-respect  had 
been  restored. 

The  influences  brought  to  bear  upon  the  boys  often  are  not 
merely  temporary  ones.  Many  of  the  managers  become  so  inter- 
ested in  certain  boys  that  the  friendship  is  a  lasting  one  ;  and  long 
after  the  boys  have  outgrown  the  clubs  they  come  to  see  the  man- 
agers or  correspond  with  them,  so  that  the  active  influence  on  their 
characters  is  often  kept  up  until  long  after  the  age  of  young  man- 
hood has  been  passed.  Several  young  men's  clubs  have  been  vol- 
untarily formed,  based  on  the  broad  principles  of  temiaerance  and 
respectability,  by  boys  who  had  become  too  old  for  the  boys'  clubs, 
but  who  were  not  willing  to  give  up  the  quiet  evenings  of  which 
they  had  become  so  fond ;  and  many  of  the  assistants  in  the 
clubs  to-day  are  boys  who  have  graduated  from  them,  and  who 
often  in  their  early  days  were  among  their  most  troublesome  mem- 
bers. 

Almost  seven  years  ago  there  was  a  boy  in  one  of  the  clubs  in 
whom  one  of  the  managers  took  a  great  interest — though  his  nat- 
ural wildness  caused  considerable  anxiety  at  home — but  who  sud- 
denly ceased  to  come  to  the  club,  and  sent  no  word  as  to  the  cause 
of  his  sudden  absence. 

For  several  weeks  the  manager  inquired  for  him  and  looked  for 
him,  liut  without  success,  until  one  day  he  heard  from  a  compan- 
ion that  the  boy  had  been  committed  to  one  of  the  public  institu- 
tions for  some  especially  unbridled  demonstration  of  mischief,  and* 
was  there  serving  out  his  term.  The  gentleman  went  to  the  in- 
stitution and  found  the  boy,  who  was  delighted  to  see  him,  and 
Avho,  after  a  time,  confided  to  him  the  cause  for  which  he  had  been 
sent  there,  which  was  of  a  much  more  serious  nature  than  the  gen- 
tleman had  supposed.  He  talked  to  the  boy,  however,  and  wrote 
to  him  every  little  while,  and  though  he  continually  got  into  harm- 
less little  scrapes,  from  his  unbounded  fund  of  animal  spirits,  still 
everything  seemed  to  be  going  on  most  favorably  until,  on  one  of 
the  gentleman's  visits,  he  found  the  bo}'  in  a  state  of  considerable 


174 


THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 


excitement  (produced  by  having-  been  pnnislied,  as  he  thought,  un- 
fairly), and  witli  all  his  plans  made  to  run  away  from  the  institu- 
tion. 

He  detailed  these  plans  to  the  gentleman,  who  told  him,  of 
course,  that  he  would  consider  the  information  confidential,  and 
certainly  would  not  make  use  of  it  to  stop  him  if  the  boy  persisted 
in  his  ]ilan  ;  that  he  advised  him,  however,  very  strongly,  not  to  do 
so,  but  to  stay  there,  and  so  conduct  himself  as  to  leave  behind 


,-dis!^Sftai<Hra»Km!.  ..^^  :>2i^:»i£<C>~ 


r'^W^^ 


Lining  Up  to  go  into  the   Gynanasiunn. 


him,  when  he  should  leave  the  institution,  a  record  so  clear  that 
anyone  who  ever  should  want  to  consult  it  afterward  could  find 
nothing  in  it  to  his  discredit. 

In  time  the  argument  so  impressed  the  boy  that  he  determined 
to  follow  the  advice,  and  from  that  time  forward  he  became  as  ear- 
nest a  worker  in  the  school  and  in  the  shops  as  any  boj^  in  the  in- 
stitution, and  finally  ended  his  term  and  left  there  with  the  hearti- 
est good  wishes  of  everyone  connected  with  it,  all  having  a  good 
word  to  saj'^  of  him.  Since  leaving  he  has  come  constantly  to  the 
gentleman  for  advice  and  counsel,  and  now  is  settling  down  into  a 
quiet,  hard-working  fellow,  with  every  indication  of  becoming  a 
comfort  to  his  parents  and  a  useful  member  of  society. 


SOYS'    CLUBS  IN  NEW  YORK  175 

Some  time  ago  tlie  same  g'entleman  found,  in  another  institu- 
tion of  the  kind,  a  bright  little  fellow,  who  had  been  sent  there 
by  his  parents  more  than  two  years  l)efore  for  being-  unmanage- 
able at  home ;  and  whose  record  there,  both  in  work  and  in  con- 
duct, had  been  of  too  low  a  grade  for  him  to  get  his  discharge, 
although  apparently  he  had  no  vicious  traits.  The  gentleman  took 
an  interest  in  him,  talked  to  him  in  a  friendly  way,  and  soon  con- 
vinced him  that  it  was  a  thing:  to  be  heartily  ashamed  of  for  a  boy 
with  his  evident  natural  brightness  to  have  so  poor  a  record,  as  a 
result  solely  of  his  indifference. 

Two  or  three  times  they  talked  together  on  the  subject ;  and  on 
coming  for  the  fourth  time  the  gentleman  found  the  boy  radiant  at 
having"  attained  the  highest  grade.  For  over  five  months  he  kept 
it,  only  losing  it  once  for  "slugging"  a  boy  who  had  kicked  him — 
an  exhibition  of  spirit  of  which  the  gentleman  heartily  approved ; 
and  within  a  week  of  this  writing,  the  boy  received  his  honor- 
able discharge  from  the  institution,  and  went  home  to  help  his 
father  at  a  trade,  with  a  record  of  excellence  behind  him  that  he 
never  would  have  attained  had  not  his  ambition  been  stirred  bj^ 
the  evidence  of  friendly  sympathy  and  the  encouragement  of  feel- 
ing that  some  one  else  reallj^  cared  whether  or  not  he  did  himself 
and  his  abilities  full  justice — an  impulse  wdiich  the  boys'  clubs  are 
giving  to-day  to  hundreds  of  boys  just  like  him.  There  is  no 
doubt  that  they  have  been  a  most  powerful  factor  in  the  encourag- 
ing decrease  in  juvenile  delinquency  during  the  last  few  years  ;  and 
it  is  earnestly  to  be  hoiked  that  soon  there  may  be  a  free  club  for 
boj'S  in  every  w^ard  of  the  city. 

Every  club  has  had  trouble  when  it  started ;  furniture  has  been 
upset,  windows  have  been  broken,  and  the  managers  have  been  as- 
saulted with  potatoes  and  onions  and  mud  ;  Init  there  is  not  one 
which  has  not  the  most  satisfactory  results  to  tell  of  as  soon  as  it 
has  become  known  that  the  managers  had  come  there  with  no  in- 
tention of  patronizing  the  boys,  but  with  every  intention  of  being 
their  friends.     The  boys  will  not  stand  patronage — and  the  more 


176  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

credit  to  them  for  it — but  they  quickly  find  out  whether  a  man  is 
really  in  sympathy  Avith  them  or  not. 

Don't  g-o  in  for  boys'  club  work  unless  you  can  feel  a  genuine 
personal  interest  in  the  boys  themselves  ;  don't  go  in  for  it  if  occa- 
sional dirty  hands  and  faces  will  hopelessly  offend  3'our  taste  ; 
don't  go  in  for  it  if  ragged  clothes  and  tattered  shirts  will  antago- 
nize you,  for  all  these  will  continually  confront  you  ;  but  if  you  care 
enough  for  boys  to  look  below  the  surface,  j^ou  will  find  under 
those  little  breasts  hearts  as  true  and  affections  as  deep  as  you  will 
ever  meet  with  anywhere,  ready  to  be  influenced  by  an  interest 
they  feel  to  be  sincere,  and  eager  to  respond  to  the  love  and  sym- 
pathy of  which  they  get  so  little  elsewhere,  and  which  will  do  more 
than  anything  else  ever  can  to  counteract  the  dangerous  influences 

of  the  streets,  and  make  them  honest,  true,  and  law-abiding  citi- 
zens. 


THE  WOEK  OF    THE  ANDOVEE    HOUSE    IN  BOSTON 
By  WILLIAM  JEWETT  TUCKEE 

PBEblDENT   OF  DARTMOUTH  COLLEGE,    FORMERLY    PROFESSOR    IN  ANBOVER  THEOLOGICAL   SEMINARY 

Lower  and  Higher  Philanthropy — Growth  of  Organized  Charity — Andover 
House  and  the  New  Philanthropy — Its  Religious  Motive— Training  of 
WoiucEus — Origin  of  the  Name — Not  Denominational — People  Dealt 
■with — Robert  A.  Woods — Administration— Principles  upon  which  Work 
IS  Conducted— Boys'  Clubs— The  Question  of  Tenements — Study  of  Soc- 
ial Conditions— Greater  Boston— Andover  House  Association — Field 
OP  Observation— Lectures— Place  of  Sympathy  in  Scientific  Work — 
Growth   of  the   Movement— After   Four  Years. 

rriHE  distinction  is  now  recognized,  though  not  as  j^et  very 
I  clearly  defined  in  the  public  mind,  between  what  is  known  as 
the  lower  and  the  higher  philanthropy.  The  lower  philan- 
throjiy  meant  the  attempt  "  to  put  right  what  social  conditions  had 
put  wrong."  The  higher  philanthropy  means  the  attempt  "  to  put 
right  the  social  conditions  themselves," 

Of  course,  no  moral  significance  attaches  to  the  use  of  the  term 
"  higher  "  as  applied  to  philanthropy.  The  term,  like  the  phrase, 
"  the  higher  criticism,"  is  entirely  free  from  assumption.  Nothing 
could  have  been  nobler  in  motive  or  in  practice  than  that  first  sim- 
ple charity  which  Avent  out  to  meet  the  early  poverty  of  the  cities, 
and  Avhich  Avas  ahvays  ready  to  run  upon  its  errands  of  mercy  Avith- 
out  stopping  to  ask  too  many  questions.  It  developed  characters 
of  rare  sensitiveness.  Charity  became  one  of  the  fine  arts,  creating 
personal  types  of  moral  beauty.     Men  saAv  that  it  must  be  blessed 

to  give,  Avhatever  it  might  be  to  receive.     And  when  the  problem  of 
12 


178  THE  POOR  IN  ORE  AT  CITIES 

suffering-  grew  weig-lity  and  urgent,  with  the  growth  of  the  cit3% 
this  same  spirit  of  charity  g-rew  strong,  watchful,  and  inventive.  It 
proved  to  be  able  to  deal  with  classes,  as  before  it  had  dealt  with 
individuals.  It  was  quick  to  follow  out  every  hint  and  suggestion 
of  unrelieved  want  and  distress.  Charities  multiplied  as  the  ob- 
jects of  charity  were  detected.  The  relief  of  the  poor  brought  to 
light  the  child  of  poverty,  the  child  of  poverty  led  the  way  to  his 
crinpled  brother,  the  diseased  child  pointed  to  the  suffering 
mother  ;  and  when  the  region  of  disease  was  once  really  discov- 
ered, it  was  quickly  occuijied  with  every  variety  of  institutional  re- 
lief. 

I  recall  a  characteristic  example  of  the  spirit  and  method  of  the 
old  charity  in  the  person  of  a  well-known  philanthropist  of  New 
York,  who  for  more  than  half  a  century  followed  with  an  unerring 
instinct  the  subtle  progress  of  distress  and  misery.  When  I  knew 
him  he  had  passed  his  three  score  and  ten  years.  Yet  each  year 
seemed  to  add  to  the  eagerness  and  intensity  of  his  search.  An  in- 
cident, associated  with  his  greatest  personal  bereavement,  revealed 
to  me  the  whole  spirit  of  his  life.  As  I  called  upon  him  in  his  sor- 
row, he  took  me,  after  a  little,  into  the  presence  of  his  dead,  and 
there  talked,  as  only  the  voice  of  age  and  love  could  speak.  Sud- 
denly he  stopped,  put  his  hand  into  his  pocket,  and  took  out  a 
check.  "  There,"  said  he,  "  is  a  check  for  $25,000  from  Mrs.  Stew- 
art for  my  woman's  hospital."  Then,  resuming  the  conversation  as 
if  there  had  been  no  interruption — there  really  had  been  none — he 
covered  the  face  of  his  dead  and  withdrew,  to  take  up  again  in  its 
time  his  now  solitary,  but  joyous,  work.  My  honored  friend  was 
the  embodiment  of  that  charity,  to  the  credit  of  which  must  be 
placed  the  countless  organizations  and  institutions  which  are  the 
most  conspicuous  signs  of  a  living  Christianity. 

But  with  the  extraordinary  multiplication  and  extension  of  char- 
ities, consequent  upon  the  growth  of  poverty,  disease,  and  vice,  the 
question  began  to  arise  in  some  earnest  minds,  may  there  not  be, 
after  all,  something  better  than  charity,  or,  at  least,  may  there  not 


THE    WORK   OF   THE  AXDOVER  HOUSE  IX  BOSTOX         179 

Ije  a  larger  and  better  charity  ?  Grant  that  the  progress  of  Chris- 
tianity has  been  marked  by  the  relie%'ing  agencies  and  institutions 
which  line  its  path,  may  not  its  progress  be  still  more  clearly 
marked  by  the  relative  decrease  of  these  very  agencies  and  institn- 
Ti<ms  ?  May  not  Christianity  be  applied  wisely,  vigorously,  and 
with  better  results  at  the  sources  of  suffering  ?  The  serious  asking 
of  these  questions  gradually  brought  in  the  higher  philanthropy, 
whose  aim,  as  I  have  said,  is  not  so  much  "  to  put  right  what  soc- 
ial conditions  have  put  wrong, '  as  to  "  put  right  the  social  condi- 
tions themselves."  The  new  philanthropy  does  not  attempt  to  su- 
persede entirely  the  old  charit}- ;  it  does  offer  itself  as  a  much- 
needed  helper  and  ally. 

The  intermediate  step  from  the  lower  to  the  higher  philan- 
thropy was  taken  through  the  charity  organization  movement,  the 
motive  of  which  was  to  economize  charity.  The  moral  as  well  as 
financial  waste  of  the  current  charity  had  become  appalling.  It 
was  estimated  that  the  "pauper,  the  impostor,  and  the  fraud  of 
everv  description,  carried  off  at  least  one-half  of  all  charity,  public 
and  private."  The  i^oor  man,  who  preferred  to  work  rather  than  to 
beg,  was  supplanted  by  the  pauper,  who  preferred  to  beg  rather 
than  to  work.  It  was  a  comparatively  easy  matter  for  a  profes- 
sional pauper  to  utilize  the  charity  of  several  different  societies, 
especially  those  which  were  religious,  for  the  support  of  himself  or 
his  family :  while  shrewd  knaves,  who  saw  the  market  value  of  an 
infij-mity  or  a  deformity,  organized  an  army  of  cripples  of  every 
sort,  whom  they  stationed  at  the  comers  of  the  streets,  or  through 
whom  they  invaded  the  homes  of  the  compassionate.  The  demor- 
alizing effect  of  this  traffic  in  charity  was  so  evident  that  decisive 
measures  were  taken  to  break  it  up  through  reforms  in  the  method 
of  administration.  In  1869  a  society  was  organized  in  London 
under  the  title,  "  The  Society  for  Organizing  Charitable  Eelief ,  and 
for  Repressing  Mendicity,"  an  organization  which  was  quickly  cop- 
ied in  the  larger  towns  of  the  provinces.  The  first  move  in  the 
same  direction,  in  this  eountrv.  was  made  in  1877,  in  the  city  of 


ISO  TEE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

Buffalo,  through  the  establishment  of  a  like  org-anization,  which 
has  since  been  adopted  in  most  of  the  cities  of  the  country  under 
the  name  of  the  "  Associated  Charities."  Naturally  these  societies 
began  their  work  as  a  crusade  against  indiscriminate  charity. 
They  brought  together,  as  far  as  practicable,  all  the  benevolent 
agencies  which  were  at  work  in  a  given  community,  they  intro- 
duced the  scientific  and  systematic  visitation  of  the  poor,  they 
sought  out  and  exposed  the  iniquitous  frauds  which  had  been  fos- 
tered by  neglect,  and  in  various  ways  decreased  the  growing  vol- 
ume of  pauperism.  And  the  work  of  the  "  Associated  Charities " 
necessarily  led  to  the  study  of  social  conditions.  It  was  impossi- 
ble to  deal  with  pauperism  in  any  scientific  way  without  investiga- 
ting the  sources  of  it.  Still  the  inherited  object  of  the  "  Associ- 
ated Charities "  was  charity — the  relief  of  suffering — the  special 
occasion  for  its  action  being  the  need  of  seeing  to  it  that  charity 
reached  the  actual  sufferer,  and  only  in  the  right  way.  It  belonged 
by  origin,  and  in  part  by  method,  to  the  agencies  which  were  try- 
ing "  to  put  right  what  social  conditions  had  put  wrong."  It  was 
evident  that  a  new  type  of  philanthropy  was  needed,  with  the  one 
distinct  object  of  trying  "  to  put  right  the  social  conditions  them- 
selves." 

The  Audover  House  has  its  place  and  does  its  work  within  the 
sphere  of  this  new  philanthropy.  It  is  one  of  the  agencies  which 
represent,  in  a  simple  and  unostentatious  way,  the  principles  and 
methods  through  which  the  new  philanthropy  is  beginning  to  make 
itself  felt  in  society.  While  in  sympathy  with  all  charitable  move- 
ments, and  having  representatives  upon  the  boards  of  "  Associated 
Charities  "  in  its  vicinity,  it  is  not  another  charitable  organization 
or  institution.  It  has  no  moneys  to  disburse.  As  far  as  appears 
to  a  transient  visitor,  the  House  is  simply  a  home  where  a  group 
of  educated  young  men  live,  study,  and  work.  But  the  House  is 
organized  upon  an  idea,  which  the  group  is  constantly  working 
out,  each  man  in  harmony  with  his  fellow.  Evidently  the  great 
requisite  in  any  attempt  to  modify  wrong  social  conditions  is  the 


THE   WORK  OF   THE  ANDOVER  HOUSE  IN  BOSTON         181 

perfect  nnderstandiug  of  those  conditions.  And  the  knowledge  of 
any  such  conditions  is  best  gained  by  practically  subjecting  one's 
self  to  them,  at  least  to  the  extent  of  making  them  the  daily  en- 
vironment of  his  life.  Residence  is  the  key  to  the  situation  in  any 
locality.  It  is  wonderful  how  many  things  come  to  one,  in  the  way 
of  the  daily  intercourse  with  his  neighbors,  which  would  entirely 
evade  the  most  careful  search  from  without.  It  is  the  unsought  in- 
formation which  tells  best  the  story  of  a  neighborhood.  And  far 
beyond  any  gain  in  the  way  of  knowledge  is  the  sense  of  identifica- 
tion with  others  which  comes  through  residence  among  them.  One 
is  conscious  of  breathing  the  same  social  atmospliere,  and  though 
he  may  retreat  from  the  more  disheartening  surroundings  of  his 
work  into  the  shelter  and  cheer  of  the  group,  yet  the  scenes  in  the 
midst  of  which  he  lives  are  in  mind  by  day  and  by  night.  The  con- 
stant strain  upon  the  sympathies  is  the  test  of  the  real  significance 
of  living  under  wrong  social  conditions.  I  doubt  if  one  person  can 
well  bear  the  strain.  It  is  the  groui^  which  saves  the  individual  to 
his  work,  and  supplies  that  fund  of  good  cheer  which  is  indispen- 
sable to  it. 

This  resident  group  is  made  up  of  educated  men,  of  men,  that  is, 
trained  to  think  upon  social  problems.  It  represents  the  contri- 
bution of  thought  rather  than  of  money  toward  their  solution. 
Doubtless  some  of  the  theories  held,  though  learned  in  the  best 
schools,  are  found  to  need  essential  modification  when  tested  by  the 
actual  fact.  But  they  give  intelligent  approach  to  studies  from  life. 
And  it  should  be  said  that  much  of  the  knowledge  within  recent 
books  is  based  upon  direct  investigation,  as  with  Charles  Booth's 
"  Labor  and  Life  of  the  People,"  or  is  the  result  of  reasoning  upon 
ascertained  facts.  To  call  the  present  training  of  the  schools  in 
Sociology  purely  theoretical  is  a  misnomer.  It  is  in  realitj'^  but 
one  degree  removed  from  life. 

Further,  the  group  represents  the  idea  of  special  consecration 
on  the  part  of  its  members.  The  work  of  the  House  proceeds  from 
the  religious  motive.     It  is  carried  on  without  compensation,  ex- 


1S3  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

cept  in  cases  where  expenses  are  met  by  fellowships.  Some  resi- 
dents propose  to  make  work  of  the  nature  there  carried  on  their 
life-work.  Others  will  take  the  spirit  of  it  into  their  after-duties, 
whatever  may  be  their  special  character.  I  doubt  if  there  is  any 
field  which  calls  more  clearly  for  the  true  missionary  disposition 
and  temper  than  resident  work  among  the  poor  in  the  great  cities. 

The  Andover  House  took  its  name  from  its  origin.  As  might  be 
supposed,  a  large  number  of  the  graduates  of  Andover  Theological 
Seminary  (about  twenty  miles  from  Boston)  are  in  service  in  and 
around  Boston.  In  October  of  1891  a  jjersonal  invitation  was  ex- 
tended through  these  graduates,  to  all  who  were  interested  in  es- 
tablishing a  settlement  for  social  work  in  Boston,  to  form  an  asso- 
ciation for  that  purpose.  The  invitation  met  with  a  quick  and 
generous  response,  and  an  Association  was  at  once  formed  which 
now  numbers  about  three  hundred  members.  This  Association  is 
made  up  of  persons  who  are  interested  in  this  special  type  of  work. 
No  other  qualification  is  asked  for.  Of  course,  the  principles 
upon  which  the  work  is  to  be  carried  on  are  clearly  stated  in 
the  constitution  which  was  adopted  by  the  Association.  As  has 
been  stated,  the  religious  motive  pervades  the  whole  movement, 
but  it  is  in  no  sense  sectarian.  It  is  not  even  inter-denominational. 
No  regard  is  paid  to  denominational  distinctions.  The  Council, 
which  is  the  administrative  body  in  the  Association,  is  made  up  of 
persons  of  various  religious  faiths,  and  this  has  come  about  not  at 
all  by  design,  but  naturally  according  to  i^ersonal  interest.  The 
work  is  supported  partly  by  membership  fees,  and  partly  by  annual 
subscriptions.  The  first  year  a  considerable  additional  expense 
was  incurred  in  the  furnishing  of  the  house,  a  task  which  was  gra- 
ciously fulfilled  by  a  committee  of  ladies  from  the  Association. 

The  House  is  located  at  No.  6  Eollins  Street,  a  short  street  be- 
tween Washington  Street  and  Harrison  Avenue,  in  Ward  XVII.,  at 
the  east  end  of  the  city.  The  street  itself  is  quite  exceptional  in 
its  appearance,  being  made  up  of  two  blocks  of  entirely  respectable- 
looking  dwelling-houses.     Some  of  the  houses  still  remain  in  the 


THE   WORK  OF   THE  ANDOVER  HOUSE  IN  BOSTON         1S3 

possession  of  the  original  owners.  The  general  section  covered  by 
the  House  is  a  narrow  strip  of  about  half  a  mile  in  leng-th,  lying-  on 
the  east  side  of  Washington  Street,  and  falling  away  toward  what 
is  known  as  the  South  Cove.  The  social  movement  in  Boston  is 
away  from  the  south  and  east.  Each  street  toward  the  west  in- 
creases the  social  standing  of  its  residents. 

The  population  of  the  neighborhood  is  not  the  most  picturesque 
in  its  poverty  in  the  city.  The  most  recent  immigration— the 
Russian  Jew,  the  Italian,  and  even  the  Arab — has  not  as  yet  really 
invaded  the  district,  though  it  has  made  its  appearance  at  the 
lower  end.  That  stage  of  overcrowding  has  not  been  reached 
which  discriminates  in  favor  of  the  lowest  and  most  degraded. 
And  yet  the  population  embraces  some  of  the  worst  types  to  be 
found  in  the  city.  It  is  by  no  means  homogeneous.  Nearly  all 
nationalities  and  races  are  represented  in  it.  There  is  no  social 
unity.  The  largest  social  unit  is  a  group.  Extreme  social  condi- 
tions are  found  in  close  contiguity.  The  visitor  Avho  passes  from 
street  into  alley  and  court  will  quickly  notice,  but  will  not  be  apt  to 
measure,  the  contrasts.  The  neighborhood  is  overshadowed  by 
vice,  though  not  as  yet  overwhelmed  by  it.  The  social  evil  is  a 
more  serious  menace  than  drunkenness  or  gambling.  In  a  word, 
the  neighborhood  is  in  ijrecisely  the  condition  in  which  some  one 
section  of  a  great  city  is  always  to  be  found,  which  has  been  left  to 
take  the  chance  of  the  future,  with  little  or  nothing  to  expect  from 
business  or  social  movements,  and  Avithout  the  advantage  of  any 
kind  of  unity. 

This  general  section  of  Boston  was  chosen  with  the  purpose  of 
attempting  to  stay  the  tide  of  poverty  and  vice  which  is  flowing  in 
upon  it,  and  of  arresting  the  social  disintegration  which,  has 
already  begun.  While  the  section  represents  in  some  parts  a 
family  life  of  intelligence  and  purity,  it  represents  in  other  parts 
most  sorely  the  need  of  the  three-fold  work  of  development,  re- 
covery, and  rescue. 

The  house  accommodates  at  present  six  men.     The  head  of  the 


184  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

House — Mr.  Eobert  A.  Woods — is  a  graduate  of  Andover,  a  former 
resident  of  Toyubee  Hall,  aud  now  well  known  through  his  lect- 
ures upon  social  questions,  and  his  book  upon  "  Eng-lish  Social 
Movements."  "With  him  are  associated  live  men,  graduates  of  dif- 
ferent colleges  and  seminaries,  who  give  part  or  all  of  their  time 
to  the  work.  The  "  spare  time  "  of  men  who  are  engaged  in  regular 
j)ursuits  is  not  alone  sufficient  for  the  work  iu  hand.  Business  life 
in  this  country  is  so  intense,  that  all  which  can  be  asked  of  those  iu 
regular  business  is  a  certain  amount  of  volunteer  aid  in  special  de- 
partments. No  resident  is  received  for  less  than  six  months,  and 
the  average  term  of  service  is  more  than  a  year.  Naturally,  the 
longer  the  time  in  residence  the  greater  the  results  which  may  be 
expected.  A  certain  element  of  comparative  permanence  among 
the  residents  is  absolutely  necessary  to  any  success.  And  next  to 
permanence  among  the  residents  is  regularity  among  the  associate 
workers.  A  very  efficient  staff  of  associates  has  already  been  or- 
ganized of  those  who  give  one  or  two  evenings  of  each  week. 
Among  these,  at  present,  are  some  of  the  younger  journalists, 
architects,  and  scientific  and  literary  men  of  the  city,  some  ladies 
of  thorough  interest  and  experience  in  work  among  girls  and  young 
women. 

The  local  work  of  the  Andover  House  rests  upon  certain  well- 
defined  principles,  which  it  may  be  well  at  this  point  to  carefully 
enumerate.  The  first  principle  is  that  the  work  is  altogether  per- 
sonal, and  in  no  sense  institutional.  None  of  the  ordinary  institu- 
tional results  are  to  be  expected.  A  thorough  and  consistent  plan 
has  been  formulated,  but  no  programme.  The  work  of  next  year 
may  not  be  that  of  this  year.  The  one  constant  quantity  is  per- 
sonal influence,  personal  invention,  personal  sympathy  and  cour- 
age, the  individual  and  united  purpose  to  increase  the  moral 
valuation  of  the  neighborhood. 

A  second  principle  is  that  nothing  shoidd  be  done  by  the  House 
which  can  be,  or  ought  to  be,  done  through  existing  organizations. 
All  duplication  of  work  is  to  be  avoided.     With  this  end  in  view,  a 


THE   WORK  OF   THE  ANDOVER  HOUSE  IN  BOSTON         185 

careful  estimate  lias  been  made  of  the  various  forces  which  are 
already  in  operation  within  the  neighborhood,  whether  religious, 
moral,  educational,  or  charitable.  The  aim  is  co-operation.  Mem- 
bers of  the  House  are  identified  with  many  of  the  organizations 
located  in  the  vicinity.  They  serve  on  their  committees,  and  are 
their  agents  and  visitors.  They  report  facts  coming  within  their 
province,  make  sug-gestions,  and  in  every  way  seek  to  increase 
their  efficiency  and  usefulness.  The  Andover  House  does  not 
crave  notoriety  in  matters  of  reform,  but  it  is  intent  upon  securing 
such  results  affecting  the  public  morals  as  may  from  time  to  time 
seem  legitimate  and  practicable.  It  has  already  initiated  some 
plans  which  have  had  a  successful  issue,  but  the  work  has  been 
done  through  others.  The  object  of  the  House  is  influence,  not 
power. 

A  third  principle,  resolutely  adhered  to,  is  the  avoidance  of 
proselyting,  not  in  appearance  only,  but  in  reality.  The  motive  of 
the  work,  as  I  have  said,  is  profoundly  religious,  admitting  a  con- 
secration as  deep  as  that  attending  any  missionary  enterprise,  but 
the  results  arrived  at  are  not  specifically  religious.  Members  of 
the  House  have  the  perfect  freedom  of  their  personal  religious  aflil- 
iations,  and  are  encouraged  to  co-operate  in  every  practicable  way 
with  the  churches  with  which  they  may  be  identified.  But  the 
attempt  to  change  the  religious  faith  of  those  whom  the  residents 
may  visit  in  their  houses  is  not  for  a  moment  considered ;  and 
this,  not  as  a  matter  of  policy,  Init  of  principle.  The  one  end  and 
aim  of  the  House  is  to  create  a  true  social  unity,  to  which  all  may 
contribute  who  have  anything  of  value  to  ofi'er.  Its  chief  object  is 
not  that  of  the  churches.  The  religious  motive  permeates  and  in- 
forms its  methods,  but  it  does  not  seek  chiefly  religious  results. 
Religion  in  and  of  itself,  as  illustrated  in  the  various  communions, 
will  never  give  the  social  unity,  in  any  community,  which  is  now 
the  most  essential  element  in  the  change  of  social  conditions. 

A  fourth  principle  is  the  development  of  the  neighborhood  from 
within  rather  than  from  without.     The  personal  acknowledgment 


186  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

of  this  principle  is  tlirougli  residence.  That,  however,  is  the  only 
easy  beginning-  of  its  application.  The  neighborhood  must  be  in 
every  way  awakened,  encouraged,  and  stimulated  to  work  for  it- 
self. Perhaps  the  quickest  api)eal  can  be  made  through  the  needs 
of  the  children.  Later,  the  appeals  from  more  general  needs  can 
be  made,  needs  which  the  neighborhood  can  fitly  ask  the  city  to 
satisfy,  and  the  final  outcome  may  be  the  develoi:)ment  of  a  com- 
mendable pride,  as  true  as  that  which  sometimes  shows  itself  in 
village  communities.  But  the  constant  method  is  improvement 
through  self-help,  not  by  patronage.  I  cannot  overestimate  the 
advantage  of  co-operation  between  adjacent  classes  in  society. 
To  bring  together  the  extremes,  as  in  ordinary  mission  work,  is  not 
a  sufficient  result.  It  is  the  coming  together  of  those  who  are  sep- 
arated by  the  slighter  difi"erences  in  conditions — which  are  often 
the  greater  barriers — the  mutual  helpfulness  of  those  whose  lives 
really  touch,  that  constitutes  the  permanent  hope  of  any  neighbor- 
hood. It  is  the  acknowledgment  of  neighborship  which  realizes 
that  fine  social  ideal — the  community. 

Acting  upon  these  principles,  the  residents  of  the  House  began 
their  work  about  a  year  ago.  It  should  be  noted  that  for  the  first 
six  months  there  were  but  four  in  residence,  and  two  of  these  could 
give  only  a  part  of  their  time.  Naturally,  the  first  object  sought 
was  a  general  knowledge  of  the  resources  of  the  neighborhood,  and 
then  acquaintance  with  the  people,  as  far  as  possible,  through  visi- 
tation in  their  homes.  Biit  access  to  one's  neighbors  in  a  city  is 
not  an  altogether  easy  matter,  whatever  may  be  the  intent.  Fortu- 
nately, the  small  boy  proved  to  be  a  natural  medium  of  communica- 
tion with  the  families  whom  the  residents  wdshed  most  to  reach. 
As  soon  as  the  boys  in  the  vicinage  heard  of  the  House,  they  began 
at  once  to  investigate  its  possibilities.  And  as  they  came  in  in- 
creasing numbers,  they  were  organized  into  clubs,  till  every  night 
in  the  week,  except  Sunday,  was  given  up  to  groups  as  large  as 
could  be  accommodated. 

A  library  of  the  best  bo^'s'  books  was  generously  provided  by 


THE   WORK  OF  THE  ANDOVER  HOUSE  IN  BOSTON         187 

one  of  tlie  Council  for  circulation,  and  the  residents  taxed  their 
invention  to  provide  interesting-  and  profitable  entertainment.  The 
boy,  thus  become  a  friend,  opened  the  door  of  the  home,  and  the 
heart  of  the  parent.  Access  to  a  considerable  part  of  the  neighbor- 
hood became  simple  and  natural.  Yisitation,  as  far  as  there  have 
been  time  and  opportunity  for  it,  has  been  conducive  to  the  best 
results.  Friendly  relations  have  been  established,  which  are  simple 
and  sincere.  One  of  the  more  mature  and  experienced  of  the  res- 
idents has  gained  a  place  in  the  confidence  and  afii'ection  of  the 
families  in  an  adjacent  court,  which  any  man  might  envy.  He  is 
known  and  trusted  as  their  friend,  to  whom  they  turn  in  their  temp- 
tations and  trials,  which  are  neither  few  nor  light.  And  through 
him  they  are  beginning  to  find  themselves  at  home  at  the  House. 

After  visitation  came  organization — so  much,  at  least,  as  seemed 
necessary  for  the  best  development  of  those  who  had  been  reached. 
I  have  referred  to  the  boys'  clubs.  These  were  transferred  early  in 
the  autumn  from  the  house  to  a  hall  near  by,  partly  to  allow  the  use 
of  the  house  for  the  organization  of  other  groups,  and  partly  in 
accordance  with  the  principle,  which  I  have  enunciated,  that  what- 
ever can  be  done  through  other  agencies  should  be  done  through 
them.  The  place  of  the  boys'  clubs  in  the  house  has  been  taken  by 
clubs  and  classes  of  young  men  and  young  women,  and  by  groups 
of  girls  and  of  children— these  last  under  the  care  of  special  teach- 
ers. The  residents  and  their  associates  still  take  the  entire  charge 
of  the  work  among  boys,  and  devote  much  time  to  it.  The  theory 
of  work  is  to  be  lavish  with  personal  influence,  to  put  a  great  deal 
of  one's  self  into  the  thing  which  one  undertakes,  whatever  it  may 
be.  From  four  to  six  residents  and  associates  are  present  on  each 
evening  with  each  group  of  boys.  To  the  ordinary  exercises  and 
drill,  of  such  clubs  are  added  regular  exhibitions  through  the 
microscope,  instruction  in  drawing  and  carpentrj^  talks  on  elec- 
trical science,  and  a  plentiful  supply  of  good  music.  The  clubs 
of  young  men  and  young  women  are  furnished  with  fit  o1)jects  of 
entertainment  and  study.     One  class  in  current  events  is  under  the 


188  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

eliarg-e  of  an  accomplished  journalist.     The  folloAving-  schedule  of 
evening's  illustrates  this  kind  of  work  : 

Monday. — Boys'  Club  (thirty  boys  under  eleven  years  of  ag-e),  at 
hall. 

Tuesday. — Boys'  Club  (twenty  boys  over  twelve  years  of  ag-e), 
at  hall. 

Wednesday. — Bo3's'  Club  (twenty-five  boys  from  eleven  to  twelve 
years  of  age),  at  hall ;  Young  Women's  Class  (fifteen  young-  women), 
at  house. 

Thursdcuj. — Monday  night  Boys'  Club  repeated,  at  hall. 

Friday. — Tuesday  night  Boys  Club  repeated,  at  hall ;  Children's 
Club  (thirty  children),  3  P.  m.,  at  house;  Young  Men's  Class  (fifteen 
j^oung  men),  8  p.m.,  at  house. 

Saturday. —  AVednesday  night  Boys'  Club  repeated,  at  hall; 
Girls'  Club  (thirty  girls),  2.30  p.m.,  at  house ;  Young  Men's  Club 
(ten  young  men),  8  p.m.,  at  house. 

Sunday. — 8.30  p.m.,  music  hour,  at  house. 

At  the  present  time  organization  has  not  advanced  beyond  these 
limits,  but  it  will  be  extended  among  older  persons  if  it  seems  the 
natural  method  of  procedure  ;  otherwise  some  other  means  of 
mutual  aid  will  be  devised.  It  may  prove  to  be  better  to  establish 
entirely  difi:erent  relations  with  the  working-men  of  the  district. 
The  residents  have  been  cordially  welcomed  in  their  intercourse 
with  the  leaders  of  labor  organizations,  and  it  is  hoped  that  there 
may  soon  be  a  conference  between  some  representatives  of  these 
organizations  and  the  members  of  the  Council. 

The  house  is  frequently  used  for  receptions,  sometimes  for  the 
association,  sometimes  for  workers  in  the  various  societies,  temper- 
ance or  charitable,  in  the  ward,  and  sometimes  for  the  families  in 
different  parts  of  the  neighborhood.  It  is  becoming  more  and 
more  a  true  social  centre.  The  table  is  found  to  be  a  fitting  place 
where  the  residents  may  discuss  with  guests  all  questions  of  order 
or  progress  affecting  the  community.  Much  more  is  accomplished 
by  the  social  than  by  merely  official  intercourse  with  those  who 


THE   WORK  OF   THE  ANDOVEE  HOUSE  IN  BOSTON         1S9 

may  in  various  ways  represent  the  political,  or  educational,  or  phil- 
anthropic affairs  of  the  neig-hborhood. 

While  these  more  personal  methods  have  been  in  o^Deration, 
attention  has  been  steadily  directed  toward  the  opportunity  for 
material  improvement,  where  it  seemed  to  be  necessary  to  moral 
development.  I  have  said  that  the  last  stage  of  overcrowding  has 
not  been  reached  in  the  district.  But  the  tenement-house  question 
presents  here,  as  everywhere  where  it  exists,  the  dilemma,  how  to 
improve  the  tenement  and  keep  the  tenant.  Little  is  gained  mor- 
ally by  the  erection  of  new  and  better  buildings,  if  the  old  dwellers 
are  driven  out  into  even  lower  surroundings.  Doubtless  the  begin- 
ning must  be  made  in  the  elevation  of  the  tenant  throug*h  a  certain 
amount  of  improvement  in  the  tenement ;  but  after  a  little  the 
process  must  be  reversed  and  the  further  improvement  of  the  tene- 
ment effected  through  the  elevation  of  the  tenant.  It  has  seemed, 
therefore,  to  some  of  the  business  men  on  the  Council,  that  it  is 
necessary  that  control,  by  rental  or  purchase,  should  be  gained  of 
some  of  the  worst  tenements  in  the  district,  that  the  work  of  in- 
ternal and  external  improvement  may  be  carried  on  together. 
There  is  reason  to  hope  that  the  methods  of  tenement-house  reform 
developed  by  Miss  Octavia  Hill  may  be  applied  at  no  distant  day 
to  some  one  house,  at  least,  as  an  object-lesson. 

Without  entering  further  into  the  local  work  of  the  House, 
which  from  the  nature  of  the  case  cannot  be  fully  forecast  or  even 
described  in  detail,  I  will  refer  to  its  more  general  scientific  work. 
One  object  of  the  House  is  the  study  by  the  residents  of  social  con- 
ditions. There  are  three  sources  of  this  study— observation  in  the 
field,  conversation  with  experts,  and  books.  The  residents  bring  to 
their  work  a  certain  amount  of  attainment  in  the  theoretical  study 
of  Sociology.  Through  the  generosity  of  a  friend  of  the  House, 
residing  in  another  State,  a  sociological  library  has  been  begun, 
which  will  enable  the  residents  to  continue  their  economic  studies. 

There  are  unusual  opportunities  in  Boston  for  conference  with 
experts  on  social  questions.     The  value  of  the  services  of  the  Hon. 


190  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

Carroll  D.  Wright,  as  Chief  of  the  Bureau  of  Statistics  of  Labor  in 
Massachusetts,  was  recognized  by  his  appointment  as  United 
States  Commissioner  of  Labor,  and  the  work  which  he  inaugurated 
has  been  vigorously  maintained  by  his  successor,  the  Hon.  Horace 
Ct.  Wadlin.  The  cit}'  has  in  its  employ  experts  skilled  in  educa- 
tional and  economic  affairs,  and  sanitation.  The  same  remark  ap- 
plies to  several  of  the  educational  and  charitable  institutions  in  and 
around  Boston.  And  not  a  few  private  citizens,  who  have  conse- 
crated their  leisure  as  well  as  their  wealth  to  the  service  of  hu- 
manity, have  become  authorities  upon  many  questions  of  social 
urgency. 

The  field  of  observation  open  to  the  residents  of  the  House  is  far 
wider  than  the  limits  of  their  actual  work.  Subjects  reaching  quite 
outside  these  limits  are  already  before  them  for  individual  study 
and  investigation.  I  am  confident  that  no  general  field  is  so  invit- 
ing to  the  student  of  questions  which  are  partly  social  and  partly 
political,  as  that  of  municipal  politics.  For  the  present,  more  ques- 
tions of  this  sort  await  solution  from  the  municipality  than  from 
the  State.  Boston  has  now  reached  that  stage  in  its  municipal 
growth  when  the  most  interesting  and  vital  problems  are  pressing 
for  solution.  The  Greater  Boston,  which  Mr.  Sylvester  Baxter  has 
described  in  his  intelligent  study,  comprising  the  adjacent  towns 
and  cities,  is  nearly  double  the  population  of  the  city  proper.  But 
this  greater  city  is  already  a  fact  in  some  particulars,  especially  as 
so  recognized  by  the  general  Government  in  the  postal  service,  and 
by  the  State  in  the  system  of  sewerage.  It  is  fast  becoming  a  ques- 
tion, how  long  interests  which  are  so  closely  related  can  be  kept 
apart  by  political  boundaries.  An  absorption  of  territory  by  Bos- 
ton, corresponding  to  that  already  accomplished  by  Philadelphia 
and  Chicago,  would  precipitate  many  moral  and  social  issues  which 
are  to-day  held  in  uncertainty.  The  time  is  opportune,  whether 
changes  are  imminent  or  not,  for  the  student  of  municipal  ques- 
tions to  inquire  into  the  social  and  political  life  of  Boston. 

Little  reference  has  been  made  to  the  Andover  House  Associa- 


THE   WORK  OF  THE  ANDOVER  HOUSE  IN  BOSTON         191 

tion,  wliicli  supports  the  House.  Thus  far  its  chief  business  has 
been  the  support  of  the  House.  The  main  return  from  the  House 
to  the  Association  has  been  in  the  bulletins,  which  from  time  to 
time  show  the  prog-ress  of  the  work.  Something-  has  been  done  in 
the  way  of  lectures,  delivered  at  the  house  for  the  benefit  of  all  the 
members.  These  lectures  were  furnished  altogether  from  the  As- 
sociation itself.  A  course  of  six  lectures  is  inserted  to  show  the 
nature  of  the  subjects  treated  by  the  lecturers,  and  afterward  in 
general  discussion  :  1.  "  The  Housing  of  the  People,"  by  Hon. 
Robert  Treat  Paine.  2.  "  Sanitary  Improvement,"  hj  Professor 
Dwiglit  Porter.  3.  "  The  Temperance  Problem  in  Massachusetts," 
by  Rev.  William  E.  Wolcott.  4.  "  Women's  College  Settlements," 
by  Miss  Yida  D.  Scudder.  5.  "  Working-  Girls'  Clubs,"  by  Miss  O. 
M.  E.  Rowe.     6.  "  The  Child  Problem,"  by  Mr.  C.  W.  Birtwell. 

The  House  serves,  through  its  residents  and  library,  the  much- 
needed  purpose  of  a  bureau  of  information  on  social  questions. 
PreiDarations  are  also  being  made  for  lectures  to  be  g-iven,  as  de- 
sired, in  the  neighboring-  towns,  according  to  the  methods  of  Uni- 
versity extension.  Social  clubs  are  being  organized  in  many  towns, 
some  in  connection  with  churches  and  some  independently^  for 
serious  investigation  and  discussion.  Eastern  Massachusetts,  with 
its  large  urban  and  suburban  population,  with  its  manufacturing 
centres,  representing  various  and  changing  nationalities,  and  with 
its  small  village  communities  retaining  still  something-  of  the 
original  type  of  the  early  settlement,  offers  rare  facilities  for  social 
study.  More  than  this,  it  makes  its  appeal  to  the  new  philan- 
tlirojjy.  The  social  problem  of  New  Eng-land  is  as  g-rave  as  that  of 
any  part  of  the  country.  Charity  certainly  cannot  solve  it.  Some- 
thing as  true  in  sj)irit,  but  far  broader  and  deeper  in  method,  is 
necessary  to  effect  safely  the  transfer  from  the  old  individualism  to 
the  future  state  of  social  unity. 

The  work  of  the  Andover  House  has  been  set  forth  in  this  chapter 
as  an  illustration  of  certain  principles  and  methods  which  charac- 
terize a  new  type  of  philanthropy.     The  general  features  of  the 


192  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

type  are  unmistakable.  Details  varj'  according-  to  tlie  agencies  em- 
ployed. Some  of  the  agencies  are  purely  scientific  and  express 
little  or  no  sentiment.  But  all  depend  in  part  for  their  scientific 
value  upon  the  sympathj'  which  attends  their  working.  There  are 
facts  in  social  life  which  will  not  yield  their  entire  content  except 
under  the  sympathetic  ai^proach.  Science,  which  is  unsympathetic, 
does  not  find  what  it  is  searching  after.  Sentiment  may  be  lack- 
ing, but  not  sympathy.  Still  the  fact  remains  that  the  new  philan- 
thro^Dy  is  making  its  strongest  appeal  to  young  men  and  young 
Avomen,  especially  to  those  who  have  the  best  intellectual  and  moral 
training.  It  is  impossible  to  overestimate  the  seriousness  and  the 
enthusiasm  with  which  the  incoming  generation  is  attacking  what 
it  believes  to  be  the  problem  of  its  time.  There  is  a  fervor  about 
this  consecration  to  the  Avork  of  social  Christianity  like  that  which 
characterized  the  work  of  Christian  missions  at  the  beginning  of 
the  century.  It  may  well  be  so,  for  the  only  cry  in  our  time  which 
compares  in  intensity  with  that  which  caught  the  ear  of  Carey  and 
Mills,  is  the  cry  from  the  Christian  cities.  We  are  beginning  to 
understand  how  much  the  apparently  simple  command  of  Christ 
meant,  "  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor."  The  perfect  obedience 
has  not  yet  been  rendered,  but  enough  has  been  attempted  to  show 
that  it  requires  careful  study,  invention,  patience,  sympathy,  and 
practical  heroism.  Resident  work  "  among  the  poor  in  great  cities  " 
has  its  reliefs,  like  missionary  work  in  foreign  lands,  chief  of  which 
is  the  fact  that  it  is  work  in  a  group.  Like  that,  too,  it  has  its 
grateful  surprises,  or  perhaps,  one  should  better  say,  its  grateful 
certainties,  in  individual  results.  The  outcome  is  always  found  in 
some  lives  rescued,  recovered,  enlarged,  with  the  possibility  that 
one,  at  least,  may  be  reached  who  may  prove  a  greater  blessing  to 
his  kind  than  all  his  benefactors.  And  the  social  result,  while  more 
undefined,  is  still  appreciable  to  those  who,  as  they  work,  can  see 
in  it  the  promise  of  the  future  society. 

The  growth  of  the  movement  represented  by  the  Andover  House 
is  quite  as  rapid  as  its  best  interests  alloAV.     Three  houses  are  al- 


THE   WORK  OF  THE  AN  DOVER  HOUSE  IN  BOSTON         193 

read}^  establislied  in  Boston  Avorking-  upon  the  same  principles : 
one  connected  with  Boston  University,  made  up  of  graduate  stu- 
dents and  their  wives ;  Denison  House,  one  of  the  Women's  Colleg-e 
Settlements ;  and  Dorothea  House,  named  after  Miss  Dorothea 
Dix,  and  composed  of  unmarried  women  :  and  there  are  two  others 
in  immediate  prospect.  Similar  work  in  other  cities  is  fully  de- 
scribed in  other  pages  of  this  volume.  The  general  movement  is 
a  remarkable  illustration  of  the  value  of  the  contribution  of  the 
personal  element,  when  fully  trained  and  consecrated,  to  a  noble 
cause. 

POSTSCRIPT  BY  ROBEET  A.    WOODS,  HEAD   OF   THE 

ANDOVER  HOUSE 

The  plan  of  work  as  explained  by  Dr.  Tucker  in  this  chapter 
has  been  quite  consistently  followed  during  the  four  years  since  the 
Andover  House  opened  its  doors.  Whatever  change  of  emphasis 
experience  may  have  brought  about  in  the  details  of  the  plan,  the 
residents  have  held  with  especial  firmness  to  the  principle  of  being 
"lavish  of  personal  influence."  In  several  ways — though  this  art  is 
very  long,  and  results  come  not  with  observation— the  House  has 
justified  the  hopes  of  those  who  inaugurated  it. 

It  has  succeeded  in  keeping  together  a  group  of  five  or  six  col- 
lege men  representing  a  variety  of  tasks  and  of  callings  in  life. 
The  average  stay  of  all  the  residents  has  been  over  a  year.  For  the 
present  staff,  the  average  stay  has  been  nearly  two  years.  Thus  the 
residents  become  identified  in  feeling  with  the  neighborhood  life, 
and  several  of  them  have  developed  original  and  valuable  lines  of 
social  work  such  as  would  be  suggested  by  their  individual  inter- 
ests and  talents. 

In  a  perfectly  gradual  and  natural  way  the  House  has  been 

coming  into  relation  with  the  people  and  the  social  institutions  of 

its  neighborhood  and  district.     This  is  accomplished  at  the  House 

l)y  informal  hospitality  and  by  a  great  variety  of  clubs,  classes,  lect- 
13 


194  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT   CITIES 

ures,  concerts,  eutertaiumeuts,  and  parties,  in  all  of  which  there  is 
the  touch  of  simple  fellowship  on  a  basis  of  common  humanity ;  and 
throii,i>-hout  the  district  by  visiting-  in  the  homes  of  the  people  and 
by  sharing-  in  the  work  of  all  sorts  of  organizations  and  institutions 
— charitable,  philanthropic,  reformatory,  political,  educational,  re- 
ligious— that  are  making-  for  the  better  life  of  the  district.  The 
plan  is  still  to  accomplish  results  not  by  creating  new  agencies,  but 
Ijy  co-operating-  with  those  already  at  work.  This  has  been  possible 
for  nearly  everything-  but  the  ministry  of  beaut}'.  That  had  to  be 
developed  out  of  nothing.  The  House  has  taken  the  lead  in  organ- 
izing free  art  exhibitions  and  an  annual  series  of  concerts,  through 
which  the  best  art  and  music  that  Boston  can  supply  has  l3ecome 
available  to  South  End  people. 

Much  work  has  been  done  in  the  way  of  the  careful  and  sym- 
pathetic study  of  social  conditions.  Some  of  the  residents  have 
come  into  relations  of  friendly  understanding  Avith  the  trades-union- 
ists of  the  city,  and  have  come-  to  have  knowledge  of,  and  iuHu- 
ence  in,  the  labor  movement  in  its  changing  phases.  Each  resident 
is  encouraged  to  take  up  the  special  investigation  of  some  ijrac- 
tical  social  question.  The  results  of  these  studies  are  published  in 
a  series  of  bulletins  which  are  sent  out  to  members  of  the  Andover 
House  Association.  Some  of  their  titles  are  :  "  A  Guide  to  Evening- 
Classes  in  Boston,"  "The  Number  of  the  Unemployed,"  "The 
Anatomy  of  a  Tenement  Street,"  "A  Study  of  Beg-gars  and  their 
Lodgings."  One  of  the  best  uses  of  the  House  is  its  now  well-rec- 
ognized function  of  serving-  as  a  kind  of  moral  and  intellectual  ex- 
change through  which  busy  men  may  acquaint  themselves  with  the 
social  situation,  at  which  they  may  meet  on  neutral  ground  other 
men  who  under  all  ordinary  circumstances  would  never  cross  their 
paths,  and  may  even  be  separated  from  them  by  great  gulfs  of 
social  distinction  and  prejudice. 
August,  1895. 


AMONG  THE  POOE  OF  CHICAGO 

By  JOSEPH   KIEKLAND 

AUTHOR  OF   "  ZURT,"  ETC. 

Peculiakity  op  Chicago's  Conditions  —  Wide  Distribution  of  the  Pooh 
Population — The  Greatest  Poverty  Among  Foreign  Elements — "  The 
Dive  "—Typical  Families — The  "Bad  Lands" — China-Town— The  Clark 
Street  Mission  ^  The  Woman's  Christian  Temperance  Union — The 
Pacific  Garden  Mission  —  Statistics— The  Unity  Church,  St.  James's 
Church  and  Central  Church  Missions  —  Volunteer  Visitors — A  Vet- 
ekan — Hull  House — Charity  Organizations — The  Jews'  Quarter — The 
Liberty  Bell  and  Friendship  Buildings — Statistics  of  a  Sweat  Shop — 
The  Anarchists — Socialists. 

CHICAGO'S  plague-spots  are  rather  red  than  black  ;  blotches 
marking-  excess  rather  than  insufficiency.  Vice  and  crime  are 
more  characteristic  of  a  new,  young-,  busy,  careless,  pros- 
perous city  than  is  any  compulsory,  inevitable  misery.  An  Eng- 
lish philanthropist  who  visited  Hull  House  (Rev.  Mr.  Barnett, 
Warden  of  Toynbee  Hall)  remarked,  in  taking-  his  leave,  that  the 
prevalent  dirt  and  flagrant  vice  in  Chicago  exceeded  anything  in 
London ;  but  that  he  had  seen  scarce  any  evidence  of  actual  want. 

The  West  is  the  paradise  of  the  poor.  "  And  the  purgatory  of 
the  rest  of  us,"  adds  some  fine  lady  who  agonizes  over  the  servant 
problem.  Well,  even  if  this  were  true  (which  it  is  not),  it  would  be 
better  than  the  reverse.  The  paradise  of  the  rich,  based  on  the 
piirgatory  of  the  poor,  has  endured  long  enough  in  the  older  lands. 

"  How  the  other  half  lives,"  in  Chicago,  is  "  pretty  much  as  it 
chooses."  Americans  born,  and  the  better  natures  among  the 
foreign   born    (supposing    them   to   have   physical   strength),    can 


100  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

select  their  own  kind  of  happiness.  If  they  choose  the  joy  which 
springs  from  sobriety,  they  can  have  it  in  plenty.  If  thej'  prefer 
the  Jelight  of  drink,  that  also  is  abundant.  A  solid  devotion  to 
Avork  and  saving-  gives  a  house  and  lot,  a  comfortable  and  well- 
taught  family,  and  a  good  chance  for  children  and  g-randchildreu, 
Avho  will  take  rank  among  the  best,  employing  laborers  of  their 
own,  and  perhaps,  alas !  looking  back  with  mortification  on  their 
laboring-  ancestors.  An  equally  solid  devotion  to  drink  gives  vice, 
crime,  want,  and  (what  we  should  call)  misery ;  but  this  is  a  free 
country.  The  latter  class,  like  the  former,  are  exercising  their  ina- 
lienable right  of  self-g-overnment.  They  absolutely  do  not  want  our 
cleanliness,  our  savings-accounts,  our  good  clothes,  books,  schools, 
churches,  society,  progress,  and  all  that,  unless  they  can  have  them 
without  paying  the  price — temperance ;  and  they  cannot  so  have 
them.  Half  of  the  "  other  half  "  belong  strictly  to  the  first-named 
class,  a  tenth  to  the  last-named,  and  the  rest  pursue  a  middle 
course.  Some  rise  from  the  middle  to  the  upper ;  the  others  live 
along,  having  ups  and  downs  and  furnishing  the  recruits  to  keei^ 
up  the  numbers  of  the  lower,  the  "  submerged  tenth  "  which,  hap- 
pily, has  not  the  facult}'  of  maintaining  itself  by  direct  reproduc- 
tion. 

The  city  has  no  "East  End,"  " Whitechapel,"  or  "Mulberry 
Street "  region ;  no  locality'  given  over  to  great  hives  of  helpless- 
ness, since  there  is  no  quarter  which  was  built  up  for  fine  resi- 
dences or  business  blocks  and  afterward  deserted  and  turned  over 
to  baser  uses.  The  most  ancient  house  in  town  (but  one)  is  not  fifty 
years  old,  and  the  average  scarcely  twenty.  Therefore  "  the  tene- 
ment-house evil,"  as  it  is  knoAvn  in  New  York  and  London,  shows 
almost  no  trace  in  the  new,  spacious  mart  on  the  edge  of  the  Grantl 
Prairie.  Rooms  are  sublet  to  individuals  and  families,  yet  it  is  not 
in  tall,  huge  rookeries  built  for  the  purpose,  but  in  smaller,  lower 
structures,  otitside  the  limits  of  the  Great  Fire,  which  destroyed 
the  Avhole  middle  district — cleared  it  of  weeds  to  make  way  for  a 
sturdier  and  healthier  growth.     If  ever  the  time  comes  when  the 


AMONG   THE  POOR   OF  CHICAGO 


19' 


sky-scraping-  structures  of  to-day  are  deserted  by  the  uses  for 
which  they  are  now  occupied  because  they  are  in  the  geographi- 
cal and  business  centre  of  the  city,  then  there  may  be  in  Chicago 
gigantic  human  hives  of  wretchedness  such  as  exist  in  London  and 
New  York.  But  as  Chicago  can 
spread  north,  south,  and  west,  it 
is  difficult  to  imagine  a  state  of 
things  when  the  present  business 
district  shall  not  be  what  it  is. 

The  "  lay  of  the  land  "  is  ag-ainst 
local  congestion.  The  river,  with 
its  main  stem  running  east  and 
west  and  its  sprawling-  branches 
running  north  and  south,  trisects 
the  whole  plain  into  North  Side, 
South  Side,  and  West  Side.  These 
in  turn  are  dissected  into  smaller 
patches  by  the  railways,  which 
come  to  the  very  centre  of  popu- 
lation, and  radiate  thence  in  all 
directions  except  due  east,  where 
the  lake  maintains  a  glorious  ven- 
tilation, moral  and  material. 

There  is  no  "  Sailors'  Quarter," 
no  place  where  Jack  ashore  hast- 
ens to  spend  in  a  week  the  savings 
of  a  year  ;  gets  drunk  as  soon  as 
jDossible,  and  stays  drunk  as  long-  as  possible,  to  balance  his  weeks 
or  months  of  enforced  abstinence.  The  sailors  here  have  only  a 
week  or  less  afloat  at  one  stretch,  and  they  spend,  every  winter, 
several  months  on  shore,  when  they  go  mining  or  lumbering  or 
pursuing  whatever  calling-  suits  their  fancy.  Many  of  them  are 
family  men  —  good,  sturdy  fellows,  not  distinguishable  from  the 
average  of  intelligent  tradesmen. 


Familiar  Scene    in  an    Underground   Lodging. 


198  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

For  depth  of  shadow  iu  Chicago  low  life  one  must  look  to  the 
foreign  elements,*  the  persons  who  are  not  only  of  alien  birth  but 
of  unrelated  blood — the  Mongolian,  the  African,  the  Sclav,  the 
semitropic  Latin.  Among  them  may  be  found  a  certain  degree  of 
isolation,  and  therefore  of  clannish  crowding ;  also  of  contented 
squalor,  jealous  of  inspection  and  interference.  It  is  in  the  quar- 
ters inhabited  by  these  that  there  are  to  be  found  the  worst  parts 
of  Chicago,  the  most  unsavory  spots  in  their  moral  and  material 
aspects. 

Twelfth  Street  is  encumbered  by  a  long  viaduct,  reaching  from 
Wabash  Avenue,  westward,  across  the  south  branch  of  the  river, 
ending  on  the  west  side  very  near  the  starting-point  of  the  Great 
Fire  of  1871.     The  viaduct  nearly  fills  the  street,  and  from  it  one 

*0f  Cliinamen  there  are  about  two  thousand  in  Cliicago,  living,  as  a  general 
rule,  iu  one  quarter  of  the  city — South  Clark  Street,  adjoining  the  line  occupied  by 
the  Lake  Shore  and  eastern  Illinois  Railways,  running  eastward  and  southward,  and 
the  Rock  Island,  running  westward.  Of  Italians  Chicago  has  many  thousands,  part  of 
whom  live  in  the  South  Clark  Street  neighborhood,  and  a  larger  number  only  a  few 
squares  away,  on  the  West  Side,  across  the  south  branch  of  the  river.  Besides  the 
light  common  labor  of  street-cleaning,  scavengering,  etc.,  they  control,  practically,  all 
the  great  fruit-business  of  the  city,  and  some  of  them  are  getting  rich  at  it.  Yet  the 
homes  of  the  majority  are  among  the  most  lowly  and  squalid  in  the  city.  Educated 
Italians  of  the  upper  classes  are  handsomely  housed  in  some  of  the  fashionable  streets. 
The  Poles  and  Bohemians  inhabit  a  southwestern  quarter,  where  their  impossible 
names  occupy  the  sign-boards  and  their  unbeautiful  faces  strike  the  eye  and  haunt  the 
memory.  They  are  hard  workers  and  not  extravagant,  and  though  crowded  thej-  are 
not  congested,  though  poor  they  are  not  in  want.  The  colored  people  have  done  and 
are  doing  remarkably  well,  considering  the  disadvantages  and  discouragements  under 
which  they  live.  They  are  not  largely  the  .supporters  of  the  grog-shops.  Their  beset- 
ting sin  is  gambling.  They  are  industrious  rather  than  hard-working,  docile  rather 
than  enterprising,  and  economical  rather  than  acquisitive.  There  are  impediments  to 
any  accumulation  such  as  their  white  neighbors  engage  in.  For  instance,  suppose  one 
of  tliem  to  invest  his  savings  in  a  "  Building  Society,"  he  would  find,  when  his  lot  was 
ready  for  him,  that  he  would  be  unwelcome  to  his  neighbors  of  a  lighter  skin.  Even 
as  a  renter  he  is  only  acceptable  in  regions  devoted  to  his  race.  As  one  of  them  said 
tome:  "  Nobody  thinks  a  colored  man  fit  for  anything  above  being  a  porter. "  Still, 
as  I  said,  there  is  a  very  perceptible  advance  in  the  race  ;  and  it  shows  but  little  of 
poverty  or  dependence,  and  still  less  of  crime. 


AMONG   THE  POOR   OF  CHICAGO 


199 


looks  into  the  second  stories  of  the  taller  houses,  and  over  the  roofs 
of  the  shorter.  One  has  there  the  advantages  for  observation  pos- 
sessed by  the  fabled  "  devil  on  two  sticks."  This  is  the  habitation 
of  the  Italian  proletariat. 

To  g-et  to  the  main  floors  of  these  sqnalid  habitations  one  must 
climb  down  many  steps ;  hence  the  name  of   the    locality,    "  The 


A  Chicago  Underground   Lodging. 


Dive."  I  once  saw  men  carrying-  into  one  of  the  darkened  en- 
trances here  an  immense  bunch  of  g-reen  bananas,  which  hung- 
down  between  them  like  the  "  g-rapes  of  Eslicol  "  in  the  old  primer. 
One  can  only  fancy  the  atmosphere  in  which  this  wonderful  fruit 
would  hang-  to  ripen,  and  hope  that  the  ripening  process  is  one  of 
exhalation,  not  of  inhalation,  during-  the  week  or  more  which  must 
elapse  before  it  appears,  yellow  and  mellow,  to  be  sold  from  the 


200  THE  POOR  IX  GREAT  CITIES 

wayside  fruit-stand,  or  be  dragrged  slowly  about  the  streets  iu  tlie 
wagons  attended  by  the  dark-skinned  pedlers  as  they  troll  forth, 
in  the  sonorous  Italian  tones,  "  Banano-o  !     Fi,  Ei,  Banano-o-o-o  !  " 

A  bad  state  of  things  exists  under  the  shadow  of  this  viaduct, 
and  under  the  inclined  planes  by  which  the  traffic  of  each  street  it 
crosses  is  raised  to  its  level.  This  is  easy  to  believe,  but  it  is  hard 
to  imagine  just  how  filthy,  how  squalid,  how  noisome,  how  abhor- 
rent it  all  is.  Walking  along  between  inhabited  houses  and  the 
brick  abutments  of  the  raised  way  is  like  walking  between  the 
walls  of  a  sewer— like  it  to  every  sense — sight,  smell,  hearing,  and 
feeling. 

The  adjacent  buildings  are  mostly  of  wood — small,  low,  rotten, 
and  crowded.  In  no  case  have  I  found  one  family  occupjdng  more 
than  two  rooms — often  only  one.  Here  and  there  would  be  seen  an 
attempt  at  cleanliness  of  floor  and  bedclothing,  Ijut  nowhere  even  a 
pretence  of  SAveeping  of  halls  and  stairways,  or  of  shovelling  out  of 
gutters  and  other  foul  conduits.  "What  squalor,  filth,  crowding ! 
The  constant  feeling  of  the  visitor  is,  "how  dreadfully  wretched 
these  people — ought  to  be." 

Ought  to  be,  but  are  not.  They  are  chiefly  the  lower  class  of 
Italians,  born  and  bred,  probably,  to  the  knowledge  of  actual  hun- 
ger, which  here  they  must  rarely  feel.  I  went  among  them  re- 
cently ;  there  were  scarcely  any  men  visible ;  the  swarms  were 
chiefly  of  women  and  children.  The  men  were  away,  largely,  no 
doubt,  attending  to  the  fruit  business  and  scavenger  work  which 
have  been  mentioned.  The  women  were  universally  caring  for  their 
innumerable  children,  and  these  latter,  especially  the  bojs,  played, 
shouted,  careered  about  the  halls  and  stairways,  yards  and  roofs,  in 
uncontrolled  freedom  and  gayety.  Two  or  three  of  them  had  found 
a  great  turnip,  or  some  such  vegetable,  and  siilit  it  in  pieces,  which 
they  displayed  in  a  row  on  a  board  beside  a  gutter  ;  no  pretence  of 
having  any  customers — it  was  merely  the  exhibition  of  an  inherited 
instinct  for  keeping  an  Italian  fruit-stand  ! 

In  the  corner  of  a  squalid  hallway,  just  outside  of  the  maternal 


AMONG   THE  POOR   OF   GHIGAQO  201 

door  (there  not  being-  an  inch  of  spare  room  within),  a  brig-ht-ej^ed 
little  girl  had  arranged  a  quite  respectable  imitation  of  a  floor-bed 
(both  coverlet  and  stuffing-  being  rags),  and  on  it  lay  a  dirty,  dilapi- 
dated, flaxen-haired  doll.  The  girl's  instinct,  too,  was  showing  it- 
self. Within  the  room  the  mother,  with  head  bound  up,  as  is  the 
universal  custom  of  her  kind,  was  attending  to  some  duties  ;  a 
child  of  two  or  three  years  sat  staring  at  the  intruder,  and  on  the 
floor  stood  a  wash-tub  over  which  was  bending  (and  really  work- 
ing) a  mite  of  a  girl  not  more  than  six  years  old.  Her  little  arms 
could  scarcely  reach  the  grimy  liquid  in  the  bottom  of  the  tub,  but 
she  did  the  best  she  could,  and  up  and  down  the  tin  wash-board 
sounded  her  tiny  kniickles,  handling-  some  dingy,  dripping-  stuff  or 
other,  she  scarcely  pausing  to  look  up  and  notice  who  had  opened 
the  door. 

Here  were  a  few  men,  more  women,  and  most  children  ;  but  no 
young-  unmarried  women.  One  wonders  where  are  the  grown  girls. 
They  are  not  in  service  in  private  families  ;  such  a  thing  is  un- 
known here ;  and  they  are  not  adapted  to  the  business  of  shop- 
girls. It  is  to  be  hoped  that  they  are  engaged  in  the  innumerable 
handicrafts  that  prevail ;  paper-box  and  paper-bag  makers,  tobac- 
co-handlers, book-folders  and  stitchers,  etc.  The  Hull  House  lad- 
ies say  that  they  marry  early  in  their  teens,  and  that  many  of  them 
do  bits  of  plain  sewing — the  mere  finishing  of  trouser-legs,  etc. — at 
wonderfully  low  rates,  and  in  wonderfully  large  quantities,  often  in 
the  so-called  "  sweat-shops  "  of  the  tailoring  trade.  The  clothing 
of  all  has  been  (apparently)  bought  at  Chicago  second-hand  cloth- 
ing stores  ;  or,  if  imported  from  Italy,  has  a  common  and  familiar 
aspect,  which  anew  illustrates  the  levelling  and  averaging  hand  of 
modern  commerce  and  intercourse,  Avhence  it  comes  that  all  man- 
kind is  growing  to  look  alike — each  individual  to  be  a  "  composite 
photograph  *'  of  all  the  rest. 

Every  person,  of  whatever  sex  or  age,  is  clothed  sufficiently  for 
decency  and  for  warmth  ;  and  seems  to  be  provided  with  all  food 
necessary  to  sustain  life,  though  perhaps  not  the  rudest  health. 


202 


THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 


Emerg-iiio-  on  a  second-story  balcony  at  the  back  of  one  of  these 
Italian  lionses  one  comes  upon  a  long-  vista  of  house  rears  and  tum- 
ble-down back  -  sheds,  squalid  beyond  conception.  Neishboring- 
Avindows  are  filled  with  faces  peering-  out  with  interest  and  amuse- 
ment at  the  stranger.     Here  and  there  are  bits  of  rope  stretched 


^■ 


Sunday   Afternoon   in   the   Italian   Quarter. 

from  one  nail  to  another — from  house  to  shed,  from  fence  to  banis- 
ter, from  w^indow-sill  to  door-post  —  carrying-  forlorn  arrays  of 
washed  clothing.  Each  is  the  effort  of  some  lowdy  woman  to  pre- 
serve a  little  cleanliness  in  the  garments  of  herself  and  her  house- 
hold. At  least  a  forlorn  hope  is  keeping  up  the  battle  against 
vileness. 

On  a  hot  summer  night  every  roof  and  every  balcony  in  sight 
is  covered  with  sleeping  men,  women,  and  children,  each  with  only 


A3WyG    THE  POOR   OF  CHIC  AGO  203 

a  sing-le  blanket  or  coverlet  for  all  purposes  of  protection  and  de- 
cency. All  winter  the  cook-stove  of  each  family  supplies  warmth 
to  the  little  household.  (The  cheapest  coal  is  always  to  be  had  at 
$3  a  ton  or  less.) 

"  The  Bad  Lands "  is  a  quarter  more  repellent  because  more 
pretentious  than  "  The  Dive,"  but,  being  the  abode  of  vice  ami 
crime  rather  than  of  poverty,  it  can  be  properly  omitted  here. 
Women  of  the  town  are  not  molested  so  long-  as' they  stay  within 
doors,  except  on  occasion  of  the  frequent  rows,  fig-hts,  robberies, 
and  murders.  The  men  about  are,  if  possible,  more  repulsive  than 
the  women.  Some  have  showy  clothes,  more  are  "  bums,"  wrecks 
of  humanity  ;  slouching-,  dirty,  sneaking,  hangdog  tramps.  They 
do  not  want  work,  could  not  get  it  if  they  Avanted  it,  and  could  not 
do  it  if  they  got  it.  All  they  want  is  a  dime  a  day.  With  that 
they  can  get  a  great  big  "  schooner  "  of  beer  and  a  chance  at  the 
free-lunch  counter.  They  sleep  on  the  floor  till  the  place  closes  up 
and  then  crawl  into  some  doorway  or  hallway,  or  go  to  the  police 
station  for  a  l)uiik. 

One  recognizes  Chinatown  by  the  curious  signs  over  the  shoj^s. 
The  Chinese  are  industrious  and  economical  and  peaceable — never 
molest  anybody  who  lets  them  alone.  Opium  they  take  just  as  our 
people  take  whiskej^,  and  it  does  not  seem  to  hurt  them  any  more. 
But  when  the  police  find  them  taking  in  whites  as  well  as  China- 
men, they  "run  them  in."  It  is  death,  and  worse  than  death,  to 
the  others,  especially  to  women.  In  a  tjq3ioa,l  Chinese  shop  all  is 
scrupulously  neat  and  clean.  It  seems  as  *if,  by  some  magic,  the 
smoky,  dusty  atmosphere  of  Chicago  had  been  excluded  from  this 
unique  interior,  which  looks  like  the  inside  of  a  bric-a-brac  cabinet, 
with  bright  colors,  tinsel,  and  shining  metals.  On  the  walls  are 
colored  photographs,  shoAving  the  proprietors  beautifully  dressed 
in  dove-colored  garments.  In  a  kind  of  shrine  stands  a  "  Joss 
table  "  or  altar,  with  what  is  probably  a  Confucian  text   hanging 


204 


THE  POOR  IN  ORE  AT  CITIES 


over  it,  and  lying  on  it  some  opinm  pipes.     In  a  room  behind  the 
shop  a  "  fan-tan "  g-ame  is  going  on  upon  a  straw-matted  table, 

around  which  gath- 
er interested  Celes- 
tials three  deep. 
In  the  shop  is  a 
freshly  opened  im- 
portation, barrels 
and  boxes  of  Chi- 
nese delicacies, 
pickled  fish  of  va- 
rious kinds,  with 
the  pungent  odor 
which  belongs  to 
that  kind  of  food 
the  world  round 
and  the  seas  over. 
The  m  e  n  a  r  e 
clothed  in  heavy, 
warm  cloth,  cut  in 
Chinese  fashion — • 
great,  broad  cloaks, 
loose  trousers,  felt- 
soled  shoes,  etc. — 
but  in  American 
felt  hats. 


Italian   Mothers. 


At  406  Clark 
Street,  in  the  very 
midst  of  all  that  is  alien  to  our  better  nature,  rises  the  Clark  Street 
Mission.*  Here  are  daily  gathered,  in  a  free  kindergarten,  some 
scores  of  the  little  unfortunates  whom  a  cruel  fate  has  planted  in 
this  cesspool.     It  is  a  touching  sight ;  they  are  so  innocent  as  yet, 

*  The  mission  is  now  on  Wabash  Avenue,  between  Fourteenth  and  Fifteenth  Streets. 


AMONG    THE  POOR   OF  CHICAGO  205 

mere  buds  spring-ins:  up  in  the  track  of  a  lava-stream.  There  is  a 
creche  here  as  well  as  kinderg-arten,  and  tiny  creatures,  well  fed 
and  cared  for,  swing-  in  hammocks,  or  sit,  stand,  walk,  or  creeji  all 
about  in  charge  of  kind,  devoted  young-  Avomen,  Curiously  enough, 
many  of  the  little  ones  are  born  of  Arabian  mothers.  There  are 
some  hundreds  of  Arabs  housed  near  by.  The  attendant  thinks 
they  are  Christian  converts,  in  charge  of  church  folk  who  were  for- 
merly missionaries  in  Arabia.  The  women  are  occupied  in  peddling 
small  wares  and  trinkets,  which  they  carry  about  in  packs  and 
baskets.*  In  the  same  hall  are  evening  and  Sunday  religious  meet- 
ings ;  and  not  long  ago  there  was  a  series  of  midnight  prayer- 
meetings  held  here,  with  how  much  success  I  do  not  know. 

The  whole  enterprise  is  in  charge  (and  at  the  charge)  of  the 
g-reat  Woman's  Christian  Temperance  Union.  This  is  an  institu- 
tion of  wonderful  strength  and  beauty  ;  a  giantess,  throned  in  in- 
telligence and  honor ;  stretching-  her  strong-  hands  toward  the 
Aveak,  sinking  thousands  of  the  "  submerged  tenth,"  and  all  who  are 
on  the  edge  of  the  submergence.  The  W.  C.  T.  U,  numbers  more 
than  200,000  members  in  all,  of  whom  1G,000  are  in  Illinois,  and 
their  activity  is  tireless,  their  ability  wonderful.  It  is  one  of  the 
phenomena  marking  the  elevation  of  the  sex  under  the  sunshine  of 
Western  freedom  and  prosperity.  The  building,  planned,  erected, 
and  paid  for  by  this  body,  is  the  most  perfect  and  (as  it  should 
be)  the  most  sightly  of  all  Chicago's  new  "sky-scrapers."  It  is 
named  "  Temperance  Temjde  ;  "  its  cost  was  $1,100,000.  Its  spare 
room  is  fully  occupied,  and  it  will  earn  rentals  amounting  to 
§200,000  a  year. 

The  Pacific  Garden  Mission  has  a  larg-e  hall,  opening  directly 
on  Van  Buren  Street,  within  five  hundred  feet  of  the  Grand  Pacific 
Hotel,  yet  within  a  scarcely  greater  distance  of  some  of  the  Avorst 
of  the  "  bad  districts  "  of  the  city.  "  The  Dive  "  is  only  half  a  mile 
south  of  it,  and  "  The  Levee,"  "  The  Bad  Lands,"   "  Chinatown," 

*  A  year  ago  I  met  a  party  of  Arabians  on  the  San  Juan  River,  in  Nicaragua,  and 
they  too  were  peddling  trinkets  carried  in  packs  ana  baskets. 


206  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

etc.,  are  still  nearer.     Tlie  single  big  room  is  vast  and  clingj^— the 
latter  characteristic  inseparable  from  every  apartment  in  Chicago 
which  is  not  the  object  of  constant,  laborious  cleaning  and  renova- 
tion.    The  walls  are  covered  with  Scripture  texts  in  large  letters, 
"  Blessed  are  ye  poor,  for  yours  is  the  kingdom  of  God,"  etc.  "  Wel- 
come," "  God  is  love,"  and  other  cheering  mottoes  are  embossed  in 
Christmas  greens  over  the  platform.     A  little  collection  of  hymns 
is  upon  each  seat,  and  notices  of  the  hours  of  services  are  sus- 
pended in  various  places,  among  the  rest  some  announcing  the  Sal- 
vation Army  meetings.     No  effort  at  ornament  for  ornament's  sake 
appears  anywhere  ;  nor  any  outward  gayety  to  suggest  inward  joy 
and  peace.     Colonel  Clark  *  is  the  moving  and  controlling  spirit  of 
the  Mission,  as  well  as  its  chief  money  supporter.    The  meetings  on 
Sunday  are  often  full  to  the  doors ;  a  few  front  seats  being  filled 
by  the   "  workers "   and   particular  friends,  and  the   rest  hx  the 
chance-comers,  gathered  from  adjacent  slums  to  hear  the  music  and 
look  on  at  the  devotional  exercises.     It  is  one  of  the  simply  relig- 
ious efforts  to  elevate  the  debased  and  reform  the  bad,  by  offering  to 
them  "Christ  and  him    crucified;  "by  the  direct  interposition  of 
heaven  it  must  succeed,  but  without  such  miracle  it  cannot.     The 
"  news  of  salvation  "  no  longer  surprises  and  charms  the  world,  for 
the  world  has  ceased  to  fear  the  opposite.     One  is  reminded  of  the 
plaint  made  two  hundred  years  ago  by  the  French  missionaries 
sent  to  the  savages  of  this  very  region  (their  skin  was  red  in  those 
days)  when  they  said,  in  effect :  "  Surely  we   are  in  nowise  to  be 
comjiared   with   the    Holy   Apostles ;    yet   the   world    must    have 
changed  since  they  went  forth  among  the  heathen  who  heard  them 
gladly,  and,  rejoicing  to  receive  the  glorious  news  of  salvation, 
tiocked  forward,  one  and  all,  demanding  baptism.     Here  we   sail 
the  floods  and  scale  the  mountains  in  pursuit  of  one  poor  savage,  if 
haply  we  may  prevail  to  save  him  from  the  wrath  to  come,  and  in 
most  cases  his  salvation  is  changed  to  backsliding  as  soon  as  our 
backs  are  turned."     To  the  same  general  effect  is  the  conclusion 

*  Since  Colonel  Clark's  death  the  work  has  been  ably  carried  on  by  Mrs.  Clark. 


AMONG   THE  POOR   OF  CHICAGO 


207 


reached  by  the  religious  workers  of  to-day,  who  say  "  these  beings 
are  in  nowise  fit  subjects  for  a  merely  religious  ministry." 

I  once  told  a  young  musician  (a  Scandinavian)  at  the  Pacific 
Garden  Mission  that  I  was  then  in  search  of  the  veiy  poor  and 
miserable,  the  helpless- 
ly wretched,  and  asked 
him  where  they  were  to 
be    found.      He    asked 
where  I  had  been,  and 
on   telling   him   that  I 
came  fresh  from  "  The 
Dive,"     "The    Bad 
Lands,"     "  Biler    Ave- 
nue,"    "  Niggertown, " 
"  Chinatown,"    etc.,    he 
asked  if  these  were  not 
poor    enough.      I    said 
they    were     rather    vi- 
cious, drunken,  and  de- 
praved than  poor ;  that 
I   wanted    to    find    the 
poverty  that  springs 
from  misfortune  rath- 
er   than    that    from 
drink.      To    this    he 
impulsively  gave  the 
pregnant  answer : 

"  There    is    none. 
You  might  find  one  or  two  others  in  five  hundred,  but  it  is  drink 
in  the  case  of  all  the  rest." 

And  so  it  goes.  Such  is  the  evidence  of  the  experts,  the  philan- 
thropists, the  missionaries,  and  the  senses  themselves.  There 
are  sixty  saloons  in  two  blocks  of  this  dreadful  Dismal  Swamp. 
Each  saloon  pays  1500  a  year  of  city  license  alone  ;  pays  its  United 


'  The   Dive. 


208  THE  rOOIl  IN  GREAT   CITIES 

States  Government  license  for  selling  spirits,  beer,  and  tobacco ; 
pays  for  all  its  stock  in  trade,  its  rent,  its  wages,  and  expenses- 
thrives  like  a  Canada  thistle  on  the  barren  soil  of  its  environ- 
ment. Five  hundred  dollars  for  license,  $500  for  rent,  $1,000  for 
wages  and  expenses,  and  $1,500  for  stock  in  trade  makes  $3,500. 
The  sums  paid  by  these  "poor"  must  reach  $4,000  a  year,  on 
the  average,  to  each  saloon;  and  sixty  saloons  gives  $240,000  a 
year,  all  in  one  street,  within  a  distance  of  two  squares.  A^erily 
the  savings  of  the  rich  are  as  nothing  compared  with  the  wast- 
ings  of  the  poor.     Beer  is  the   alleviation   and  perpetuation   of 

poverty. 

I  also  asked  the  young  musician  about  the  condition  of  his  fel- 
low-Scandinavians, where  their  poor  could  best  be  studied.  He  re- 
plied that  there  were  none.  Individual  helplessness  was  cared  for 
by  individual  charities  and  the  churches.  That  is  what  might  be 
expected.  The  Scandinavian  immigration  has  been,  on  the  whole, 
the  finest  addition  to  the  northwest.  They  are  largely  agricultur- 
ists, are  temperate,  industrious,  strong,  frugal,  and  hardy.  Not  sel- 
dom do  great  colonies  of  them  go  on  cheap  excursions  back  to  visit 
the  Fatherland.  They  pass  through  Chicago — men,  women,  and 
children— with  bands  playing  and  flags  flying  ;  they  cross  the  sea 
and  spend  some  time  at  the  old  home,  spreading  the  news  of  West- 
ern freedom  and  plenty,  and  then  return  Avitli  many  recruits  and 
with  fresh  relish  for  the  Greater  Scandinavia  they  are  building 
among  us.  Those  who  do  remain  in  the  cities  are  helpers  worth 
having.  The  girls  make  the  best  house-servants — strong,  intelligent, 
respectful,  and  self-respecting;  and  the  men,  though  not  blameless 
in  the  matter  of  drink,  yet  are  not  among  the  willing  slaves  to  it. 
On  the  whole,  they  see  the  alternative  presented  to  them — the  two 
kinds  of  hajipiness  already  spoken  of — and  make  what  seems  to  us 
the  wisest  choice  between  them.  The  servants,  as  cooks  and  "  sec- 
ond girls,"  earn  from  three  to  five  or  six  dollars  a  week  besides  their 
board  and  lodging,  and  the  demand  for  such  as  have  anything  like 
a  fair  knowledge  of  their  business  is  always  ahead  of  the  supply. 


es^'^  f 


J 


AMONG   THE  POOR   OF  CHIC  AGO  211 

They  dress  well,  save  money,  and  spend  immense  sums  in  helping 
their  friends  here  and  in  the  Fatherland. 

In  the  "  North  Division,"  near  the  great  gas-works,  exists  a  large 
colony  Avhich  of  old  earned  the  name  of  "  Little  Hell,"  and  which 
presents  features  of  deep  shadow  with  gleams  of  growing  light — a 
dark  cloud  with  a  silver  lining.  Many  of  the  men  are  gas-work 
laborers,  doing  hard  duty,  earning  large  wages,  and  drinking  deep 
draughts.  They  are  of  three  races — Irish,  German,  and  Scandi- 
navian— the  lirst-named  the  most  able  and  the  most  turl^ulent. 
The  wages  earned  since  the  works  were  started,  if  they  had  been 
wisely  used,  would  have  bought  the  entire  plant ;  would  have 
vested  every  dollar  of  the  vast  and  profitable  stock  in  the  workers. 
The  latter  would  now  be  the  capitalists.  But  that  is  a  mere  truism. 
The  wage-earners  of  the  whole  country  would  be  the  capitalists  if 
it  were  not  that  they  have  preferred  to  take  their  joy  drop  by  drop. 

The  bright  lining  of  the  dark  cloud  hovering  about  the  gas- 
works is  the  Unity  Church  Industrial  School  and  Boys'  Club  near 
by,  and  the  Saint  James's  Church  and  Central  Church  Mis- 
sions, not  far  away.  The  former  (which  I  happen  to  know  most 
about)  was  started  in  1876  by  the  women  of  Eobert  Collyer's 
church,  in  an  effort  to  do  something  for  the  poorest  and  most 
neglected  children,  the  difficulty  being  that  this  class  was  soon 
supplanted  by  a  better  class,  less  in  need  of  help — "  people  more 
anxious  for  what  they  could  get  than  what  they  could  learn."  The 
others,  children  of  the  drunken  and  vicious,  Avere  always  hardest  to 
reach  and  to  keep  hold  of. 

From  this  grain  of  mustard-seed  has  grown  a  great  tree.  The 
excellent  and  benevolent  Eli  Bates  bequeathed  to  the  enterprise 
$20,000,  which  was  used  for  the  construction  of  a  brick  building 
having  all  the  appliances  for  an  industrial  school,  and  there  the 
worthy  Unity  Church  people  spend  time  and  money  to  good  pur- 
pose. There  are  classes  in  various  branches,  and  a  large  and  well- 
kept  creche. 


212  TUE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

A  noticeable  feature  of  this  "  lay  mission  "  is  the  Boys'  Club, 
where,  for  several  months  every  year,  meetings  have  been  held  on 
several  evenings  each  week  to  give  the  youth  of  the  neighborhood 
rational  and  wholesome  fun  with  some  incidental  instruction.  The 
boys  range  from  eight  to  sixteen  years  old,  and  were  at  the  start 
a  "  hard  lot."  Yet  they  always  had  some  traits  of  good  feeling. 
The  young  women  teachers  always  found  them  easier  to  manage 
than  did  the  men.  And  even  when  discipline  had  to  be  main- 
tained by  force,  the  majority  was  sure  to  be  on  the  side  of  law  and 
order.  As  far  as  possible,  the  boys  are  made  to  manage  their  own 
games  and  exercises,  showing  sometimes  a  good  deal  of  ability. 
They  number,  on  ordinary  evenings,  about  sixty,  the  "  picnic  ag- 
gregate" reaching  to  a  hundred  and  fifty.  The  older  boys  are 
workers  during  the  daytime ;  the  younger,  attendants  on  public 
and  parochial  schools. 

There  is  but  little  want  among  the  families.  Their  houses  are 
small  and  not  crowded  together ;  but  the  households  occupy  gener- 
ally only  two  or  three  rooms  each. 

"VMiether  influenced  by  the  various  missions  near  by,  by  the 
paving  and  improvement  of  streets,  or  by  other  causes,  or  partly  by 
the  one  and  i^artl}"  by  the  others,  the  place  is  losing  its  old  char- 
acter, and  even  its  ugly  sobriquet  is  almost  forgotten. 

In  Chicago  the  "fashion"  and  the  larger  part  (though  not 
by  any  means  all)  of  the  wealth  of  the  city  are  on  the 
"South  Side"  and  "North  Side,"  where  also  the  deepest  poverty 
and  degradation  are  to  be  found.  On  the  great  "  West  Side  "  are 
the  industrious  and  prosperous  workers,  with  their  tens  of  thou- 
sands of  labor-bought  homes.  It  may  be  a  new  idea  to  the  deni- 
zens of  older  cities  that  laborers  should,  can,  and  do  own  their 
dwelling-places,  both  land  and  building.  Far  more  than  half  the 
homes  in  Chicago  are  so  owned  and  occupied.  The  chief  part  of 
real-estate  speculation  is  the  buying  of  suburban  acres  and  sub- 
dividing and  selling  them  in  lots  to  thrifty  workmen.     Purchase  for 


AMONG   THE  POOR   OF  CHICAGO 


213 


the  sake  of  putting  up  houses  to  rent  as  clwelling-s  (except  in  the 
case  of  flats)  is  now  extremely  rare.  The  chief  agent  in  this  home- 
stead movement  is  to  be  found  in  the  numerous  "  building  socie- 
ties," wherein  the  mechanic  deposits  his  savings  as  they  accrue, 
and  then  when  be  wishes  to  build  his  home  he  draws  from  the 
society  whatever  he  may  have  laid  up,  and  borrows  from  it  what  he 
may  need  in  addition,  paying  a  premium  in  addition  to  the  usual 
interest.  (This  premium  and  interest  inure  to  the  benefit  of  the 
other  depositors.)     Membership    in   a   building   society,   and  the 


A,M  fuuiMrnMM>mFm^  T<n]  «f nfFI   «•     '£=^U>    'Nr     jL    -> 


«>    >.-.;^£.o  '^,?aSa?^ 


Hull   House  Creche,   or  Day  Nursery. 

hope  of  a  bit  of  ground  all  his  own,  are  wonderful  incentives  to 
temperance  in  the  man  and  economy  in  the  wife.  And  when  the 
lot  is  selected,  how  he  clings  to  it !  Beer  and  whiskey  are  for- 
gotten. Even  schooling  and  some  other  good  and  proper  cares  are 
apt  to  be  postponed.  A  city  of  such  homes  is  safe  from  anarchy. 
As  for  any  wielder  of  torch  and  dynamite,  as  soon  as  he  steps  forth 
into  the  light  of  the  humble  private  fireside,  and  the  "  lamp  in  the 
window,"  he  is  in  peril  of  his  life. 

On  the  West  Side  are  also,  especially  in  winter,  the  unem- 
ployed ;  some  of  whom  could  not  find  work  if  they  would,  some 
would  not  if  they  could,  and  some,  when  they  can  and  do  work, 


214  TUE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

make  the  omnipresent  saloon  their  saving-s-bank ;   a  bank  which 
takes  in  g-ood  money  but  pays  out  only  false  tokens. 

I  accompanied  one  of  the  "  Volunteer  County  Visitors  "  on  her 
walk  in  search  of  the  jDeople  who  should  be  helped  by  charity, 
public  or  private.  We  walked  through  a  half-mile  of  street  lined 
Avitli  the  crowded  habitations  of  the  poor.  At  the  farther  end  of 
it  are  visible  the  moving  trains  of  the  Fort  Wayne  Eailway,  and 
above  and  beyond  these  the  masts  and  funnels  of  shipping.  Being 
just  outside  the  old  "  burnt  district,"  its  houses  are  of  wood,  an- 
cient, squalid,  dilapidated.  There  is  not  more  than  about  one  sa- 
loon to  every  street  corner,  therefore  this  is  far  from  an  "  infested  " 
region.  It  is  chiefly  occupied  by  Italians,  who  are  not,  as  yet,  the 
sots  and  terrors  of  the  social  system,  and  do  not  seem  likely  ever 
to  become  so.  Groups  of  them  are  idling  about,  well  enough 
dressed,  but  low-browed  and  ill-favored,  looking  with  apparent 
surliness  on  visitors  come  to  spy  out  the  nakedness  of  the  land. 
Within  the  houses  we  find  the  families  crowded  into  two  small 
rooms  each,  or  thereabouts;  and  in  those  two  rooms  are  all  the 
operations  of  existence  to  be  carried  on  in  each  case.  Sleeping, 
eating,  cooking,  washing,  ironing-,  sickness,  child-bearing-,  nursing, 
living,  dying,  and  burying — these  considerations  force  themselves 
on  the  mind  and  suggest  dismal  ijictures  as  one  fancies  a  life  so 
spent. 

Yet  as  to  mere  room,  warmth,  shelter,  dryness,  and  convenience, 
the  inhabitants  are  better  accommodated  than  is  the  campaigning 
soldier  in  his  tent,  having  no  furniture,  clothing  for  night  or 
day,  or  other  appliances  for  comfort,  except  those  he  can  carry  with 
him  from  camp  to  camp  in  addition  to  his  arms  and  accoutrements. 
But  women  and  children  are  not  soldiers.  Camp  miseries  would 
kill  them ;  one  Avho  has  sufi^ered  such  privation  can  scarcely  feel 
the  proper  degree  of  pity  for  these  creatures — warm,  dry,  fat, 
clothed,  safe,  at  leisure  and  at  liberty. 

The  poorest  and  most  wretched  household  we  found  that  day 


AMONG    THE  POOR   OF  CHICAGO  215 

was  tliat  of  an  old  soldier,  a  gray-liaired  man  of  education  and  (at 
some  time)  of  intelligence,  once  a  lieutenant  in  a  volunteer  regi- 
ment. He  was  wounded  at  the  battle  of  Fair  Oaks.  There  he  lies, 
g-rimy  and  vermin-infested,  in  a  filthy  bed,  with  a  young  g-randchild 
beside  him  in  like  condition,  and  a  drunken  virago  of  a  woman, 
ramping  and  scolding-  in  the  two  rooms  which  constitute  the  family 
abode.  She  is  quite  the  most  repulsive  being-  yet  met  with.  A 
little  inquiry  develops  the  fact  that  this  man  was  in  the  Soldiers' 
Home  at  Milwaukee  (and  could  return  there  to  remain,  if  he 
wished),  well  fed,  clothed,  and  cared  for,  and  that  he  left  there  be- 
cause :  "  You  see  you  can't  stand  it  to  be  kept  down  all  the  time, 
and  moved  back  and  forth,  and  here  and  there,  whether  you  like  it 
or  not."  And  he  moved  his  black  paws  back  and  forth,  and  here 
and  there,  on  the  dingy  bedclothes,  to  indicate  how  the  Home  de- 
prived him  of  his  freedom— his  "liberty"  to  pass  his  time  in  the 
living-  death  which  his  present  condition  seems  to  the  onlooker. 

Chicago's  "  Hull  House  "  is  already  widely  known  as  the  "  Toyn- 
bee  Hall "  of  the  West,  though  the  parallelism  between  the  two  in- 
stitutions is  far  from  absolute  and  complete.  In  the  first  place, 
Hull  House  was  started  and  is  carried  on  by  women,  with  only  the 
occasional  and  exceptional  heli^ — welcome  though  it  is — of  the 
other  sex.  Then,  too,  the  system  is  as  different  as  are  the  condi- 
tions in  which  the  two  institutions  are  placed.  Its  best  service  in 
stimulating  the  intellectual  life  of  the  neighborhood  has  been  in 
the  establishment  of  its  college-extension  classes,  which  have  grown 
into  what  is  practicalh^  an  evening  college,  with  thirty  courses 
weekly  and  a  membership  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  to  two  hundred 
students  of  a  high  order. 

In  a  widel}^  difierent  sphere  is  its  strictly  philanthropic  work. 
Yet,  even  here,  Hull  House  is  not  a  mission,  since  no  especial  re- 
ligion is  inculcated  and  no  particular  social  reform  is  announced  as 
the  object  of  its  being.  If  people  in  the  humbler  classes  of  its  vis- 
itors learn  there  to  live  good,  clean,  temperate  lives,  it  is  throug-h 


216 


THE  POOR  IN  GEE  AT  CITIEfi 


"  Temperance   Temple." 

Built  by  the  Woman's  Christiau  Temperance  Union. 


the  demonstration  of  the  enduring  beaiity  and  g-ayety  of  such  a  life 
as  contrasted  with  the  lurid  and  fleeting  joys  of  the  other.     Hull 


AMONG   THE  POOR   OF   CHICAGO  217 

House  parlors,  class-rooms,  g-ymuasium,  library,  etc.,  are  the  rivals 
of  the  swarming-  grog-shops.  Nobody,  not  even  the  ornaments  of 
clie  college-extension  classes,  is  more  welcome  than  the  jjoor  fellow 
who  has  begun  to  feel  that  he  can  no  longer  struggle  against  pov- 
erty and  drink,  and  nobody  is  less  pointed  at,  preached  at,  or  set 
upon  than  he.  The  choice  is  open  to  him,  right  hand  or  left  hand 
as  he  sees  fit,  and  it  surely  seems  as  if  no  sane  human  being  could 
hesitate.  At  least  the  boy  growing  up  with  the  choice  before  him, 
and  the  light  shining  on  the  parting  of  the  ways,  will  take — is  tak- 
ing—the one  those  devoted  young  women  are  making  so  inviting  to 
his  footsteps. 

It  is  not  charity  that  Hull  House  offers,  any  more  than  it  is  pre- 
cept. True,  there  are  some  cases  which  arise,  outside  the  business 
of  the  House,  where  public  or  private  beneficence  is  turned  toward 
deserving  helplessness.  But  that  is  not  strictly  Hull  House  work. 
The  latter  consists  in  bestowing  friendship  and  sympathy,  the  sis- 
terly heart,  hand,  and  voice,  on  all  who  are  willing  to  come  within 
its  sweet  and  pleasant  influence. 

With  characteristic  wisdom  and  good  feeling  the  Board  of  the 
grand  Chicago  Public  Library  (free  to  all)  has  placed  one  of  its 
sub-stations  in  the  reading-room  of  Hull  House ;  and  in  that  large, 
handsome,  well-lighted  apartment  applications  for  books  are  taken, 
and  the  books  are  delivered  and  returned,  all  quite  without  expense 
of  any  kind  to  the  reader. 

The  building  which  contains  the  library  and  reading-room  has 
been  added  to  the  Hull  House  structures  by  the  liberality  of  Ed- 
ward B.  Butler.  The  same  building  contains  a  studio  in  which 
drawing-classes  are  held  each  evening,  and  an  admirably  fitted  art- 
exhibit  room  in  which  some  of  the  best  pictures  in  Chicago  are 
shown  from  time  to  time.  The  humanitarian  side  of  the  Hull 
House  activity  is  maintained  by  the  Nursery,  the  Kindergarten,  the 
Diet  Kitchen,  the  District  Nursing,  and  the  Industrial  Classes.  Its 
activities  are  multiform  that  they  may  meet  the  needs,  not  alone  of 
the  enterprising  nor  yet  the  poor,  but  of  its  neighborhood  as  a 


218  TEE  POOR  IN  ORE  AT  CITIES 

whole.     That  it  has  met  such  a  need  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  the 
weekl3"  membership  of  its  club  and  classes  is  nine  hundred. 

The  Creche,  or  Day  Nursery,  is  surely  as  bright,  sunny,  and 
pretty  a  room  as  any  ever  devoted  to  that  angelic  purpose.  Two 
little,  low  tables,  two  dozen  little,  low  chairs,  each  holding  a  pa- 
thetic little  figure,  dear  to  some  mother's  heart,  and  a  young  lady 
as  busy  (and  sometimes  as  puzzled)  as  a  pullet  with  a  brood  of 
ducklings— these  are  the  dramatis  personce.  It  is  luncheon-time, 
and  with  much  pains  the  babes  have  been  brought  to  reasonable 
order,  side  by  side,  each  restless  pair  of  hands  joined  in  a  devo- 
tional attitude  far  from  symbolic  of  the  impatient  being  behind 
them.  One  small  creature  remains  rebellious,  and  stands  against 
the  wall  in  tearful  protest.  The  guardian  angel  explains  that  the 
small  creature  misses  its  mother,  whereupon  a  visitor  lifts  it  in  his 
arms,  and  all  is  jDeace. 

The  Creche  has  flourished  greatly.  The  numbers  vary  from 
twenty-five  to  thirty,  being  governed  by  a  curious  law — the  preva- 
lence of  house-cleaning!  When  many  mothers  can  find  jobs  of 
scrubbing  (which,  by  the  way,  earns  a  dollar  and  a  half  a  day),  then 
many  babies  are  the  helpless  beneficiaries  of  the  good  offices  of 
Hull  House.  But  the  benefit  is  not  a  gift ;  Hull  House  gives  out 
no  alms  ;  everj'  child  is  paid  for  at  five  cents  a  day. 

The  Sewing-Class  is,  if  possible,  a  still  more  beautiful  sight. 
Twenty  or  thirty  little  girls  are  gathered  about  low  .tables  sewing 
away  for  dear  life,  and  sitting  among  them  are  several  young 
"  society  "  women,  guiding  the  immature  hands  and  thoughts.  It 
is  proudly  said  that  no  social  pleasures  are  allowed  to  stand  in  the 
way  of  this  philanthroiDic  duty. 

From  an  admirable  pamphlet  entitled  "Hull  House:  A  Social 
Settlement,"  I  condense  the  following  sketch  of  labors  and  ef- 
forts : 

Monday  Evenings :  Social  Club,  thirty  girls.  Debating  Club, 
thirty  young   men.     (The   two   clubs   join   later  in  the   evening.) 


AMONG   THE  POOR   OF  CHICAGO 


219 


Athletic  Class.     Drawing-   Class.     Greek  Art  Class.     Mathematics 
Class.     English  Composition  Class. 

Tuesday  Evening: :  AVorking-  People's  Social  Science  Club.    (Ad- 
dresses and  discussions  led  by  judges,  lawyers,  and  business  men.) 


Russian  Jews  at   "  Shelter  House." 


Gymnasium.  Drawing-  Class.  Cooking-  Class.  American  History. 
Eeading-  Party.  Ca?sar.  Latin  Grammar.  Political  Economy. 
Modern  History. 

And  so  on  through  the  week.  The  noticeable  varieties  of  inter- 
est include  (besides  the  branches  already  named)  Singing,  Needle- 
work, Diet  Kitchen,  Biology,  Shakespeare,  Lilies  and  Ferns,  Victor 
Hugo,  German  Reception,  Chemistry,  Electricity,  Clay  Modelling, 


220  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

English  for  Italians,  Women's  Gymnastics,  etc.  This  vast  ciuTicu- 
lum  is  only  for  the  evenings  ;  the  mornings  and  afternoons  and  the 
Sundays  have  their  own  programmes;  and  it  may  well  be  im- 
agined that  no  business  establishment  goes  far  beyond  this  bee- 
hive of  benevolence  in  orderly  bustle  and  activity. 

Hull  House  is  fairly  supplied  with  means.  The  use  of  the 
property  it  occupies  was  freely  and  generously  bestowed  upon  it  by 
Miss  Helen  Culver,  to  whom  the  property  w^as  devised  by  the  late 
Charles  J.  Hull,  whose  old  family  residence  it  was.  Then,  too,  the 
needs  of  the  institution  are  wonderfully  small  compared  with  the 
ever- widening  and  deepening  sphere  of  its  influence. 

Miss  Jane  Addams  and  Miss  Ellen  Gates  Starr  are  the  young 
women  whose  hearts  conceived  it,  whose  minds  planned  it,  and 
whose  small  hands  started  it  and  have  managed  it  thus  far. 

One  of  the  young  women  had  some  private  means  of  her  own ; 
and  such  is  the  sway  of  their  gentle  influence  among  those  who 
know  them  that  when  they  are  told  that  money  must  come,  lo  ! 
it  appears.  And,  what  is  more,  when  they  are  forced  to  admit 
that  their  strength — unfortunately  not  superabundant — has  reached 
its  limit,  other  young  helpers  are  at  hand  and  the  work  never 
flags. 

There  exist  in  Chicago  other  benevolent  institutions  whose  very 
number  and  variety  preclude  description.  The  City  Directory  con- 
tains the  addresses  of  57  asylums  and  hospitals,  28  infirmaries  and 
dispensaries,  41  missions,  60  temperance  societies,  lodges,  etc.,  and 
thirty-seven  colmnns  of  secret  benevolent  associations,  camps, 
lodges,  circles,  etc.  The  city  is  honeycombed  with  philanthropic 
associations  in  all  magnitudes,  shapes,  and  forms,  from  the  ancient 
and  honorable  "Relief  and  Aid"  (which  won  deathless  fame  after 
the  Great  Fire)  down  to  the  latest  "  Working-Girls'  Luncheon 
Club,"  the  Ursula,  instituted  by  the  graduates  of  an  advanced  school 
to  provide  and  furnish,  at  cost,  mid-day  meals  in  the  business  dis- 
tricts for  their  toiling  sisters.  (There  are  several  such  clubs,  and 
more  are  forming.)     Everyone  of  the  hundreds  of  churches  is  a  cen- 


AMONG   THE  POOR   OF   CHICAGO  221 

tre  of  charitable  effort.  It  becomes  a  net-work  so  all-pervading 
that  one  wonders  that  any  should  slip  through,  after  all,  and  per- 
ish of  want,  as  occasionally  happens,  nevertheless. 

What  is  known  as  the  "  Poor  Jews'  Quarter  "  (as  contra-distin- 
guished from  the  splendid  homes  of  their  richer  co-religionists) 
lies  near  the  western  end  of  Twelfth  Street  Bridge,  and  to  the 
southward  of  the  West  Side  Italian  quarters  already  spoken  of. 
Certainly  it  is  not  the  abode  of  ease,  luxury,  and  elegance  ;  its 
odors  are  not  those  of  flowery  meads,  its  architecture  is  not  marked 
by  either  massiveness  or  ornamentation,  its  streets  and  alleys  are 
not  grassy  (though  they  look  as  if  they  might  be  fertile  under 
proper  cultivation),  and  its  denizens  are  more  remarkable  for  num- 
ber than  for  attractiveness.  On  the  other  hand,  the  region  is  still 
less  suggestive  of  a  "  Ghetto,"  according  to  any  prevailing  tradition 
of  those  abodes.  Children,  ranging  from  infancy  to  adolescence, 
and  from  invalidism  to  rude  health,  throng  the  sidewalks.  Many 
of  these  children  have  never  seen  a  tree  or  a  blade  of  grass.  "  In 
our  summer  country  excursions,"  said  a  lady  of  Hull  House,  "  we 
have  much  pleasure  in  watching  them— they  kneel  down  sometimes 
so  as  to  study  the  grass  and  feel  it  with  their  hands."  Yet  the  side- 
walk seems  to  furnish  a  tolerable  substitute  for  the  grass-plat,  and 
the  passer-by  has  to  edge  close  to  street  or  fence  to  keep  clear  of 
the  flying  rope,  turned  by  two  girls,  while  a  little  string  of  others 
are  awaiting  their  turn  to  jump,  each  one  who  "  trips  "  taking  the 
place  of  one  of  the  turners — just  as  is  done  by  their  richer  fellow- 
mortals,  better  fed  and  better  dressed,  but  perhaps  not  more  joyous 
and  miregretful. 

In  the  midst  of  this  swarming  colony  rises— tall,  large,  hand- 
some, and  solid— the  "  Jewish  Training  School,"  under  the  manage- 
ment of  a  strong  band  of  the  solid  Israelites  of  the  city  (represent- 
ing, of  course,  solid  millions  of  money)  and  the  superintendency  of 
Professor  Gabriel  Bamberger.  Fifty  thousand  dollars  a  year  is 
wisely  and  economically  expended  here,  and  eight  hundred  children 
and  youths,  of  both  sexes,  and  all  races  and  religions,  are  taught 


222 


THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 


and  cared  for.     The  classes  in  drawing  and  clay-modelling-  are  es- 
pecially notable. 

Not  far  away  is  the  "  Shelter  House  "  of  the  "  Society  in  Aid  of 
Russian  Ivefugees."     There  the  members  of  this  unfortunate  class 


Another  Group  at   "  Shelter  House." 

find  surcease  of  their  woes  and  persecutions  in  a  blessed  harbor  of 
temporary  refug-e,  whence  they  are  scattered  to  various  employ- 
ments and  chances  to  earn  an  honest  living-,  free  from  imperialism, 
officialism,  priestcraft,  and  military  service.  They  are  a  sturdy- 
looking  set,  and  will  not  be  long  in  learning  that  their  greatest  ill- 


AMONG   THE  POOR   OB'   CHICAGO  223 

treatment  is  turned  to  tlieir  greatest  good  luck  when  they  arrive  at 
the  "  Shelter  House."     They  are  "  submerg-ed  "  no  longer. 

"When  the  back  streets  of  Chicago  are  undergoing  their  spring 
cleaning,  the  mass  of  mud  collected  for  removal  in  this  quarter  is 
incredible.  The  piles  along  the  street-side  are  as  high  as  they  can 
be  made  to  stand  erect,  and  as  close  together  as  they  can  be.  This 
is  the  accumulation  of  the  months  of  December  to  March  inclusive 
—the  months  when  snow,  frost,  and  short  days  impede  the  work  so 
that  a  dollar  laid  out  does  perhaps  not  forty  cents'  worth  of  good. 
Then,  too,  the  cold  renders  the  vile  deposit  less  hurtful  to  health, 
and  the  moisture  and  the  frost  keep  it  from  flying  about  in  the 
form  of  dust.  The  main  streets  are  cleaned  even  when  there  is 
snow  on  the  ground.* 

One  characteristic  development  of  business-like  philanthropy  in 
Chicago  is  in  the  "  Liberty  Bell  "  and  "  Friendship  "  buildings  for 
the  accommodation  of  working-men.  They  are  not  germane  to  the 
subject  of  poverty,  except  to  show  its  absence,  prevention,  or  alle- 
viation. The  first-named  was  an  experiment  in  the  direction  of 
furnishing  to  working-men  good  accommodations  at  rates  almost 
nominal.  A  man  is  there  ofl:'ered  a  bath,  a  shave,  and  the  use  of  a 
laundry  (both  provided  with  hot  and  cold  water  and  soap),  and  a 
clean  bed  in  a  clean  and  ventilated  room,  all  for  ten  cents.  The 
whole  main  floor  is  devoted  to  a  waiting-room  with  chairs  and 
tables.  In  this  room  one  sees  from  fifty  to  one  hundred  men,  old 
and  young,  talking,  smoking,  reading  newspapers,  and  the  place  is 
filled  with  the  hum  of  conversation.  In  one  corner  is  a  group  dis- 
cussing work  and  wages  ;  in  another  the  younger  felloAVS  have  made 
their  newspapers  into  balls  which  they  toss  one  to  another.  There 
is  no  drinking,  no  singing,  and  no  boisterous  mirth.     "  They  take 

*  Even  ill  well-swept  London  the  streets  are  neglected  in  winter.  ' '  In  one  street  is 
the  body  of  a  dead  dog,  and  near  by  two  dead  cats,  which  lie  as  though  they  had 
slain  each  other  ;  all  three  have  been  crushed  flat  by  the  traffic  which  has  gone  over 
them,  and  they,  like  everything  else,  are  frozen  and  harmless.'' — Labor  and  Life  of  the 
People,  vol.  ii.,  p.  96,  London,  1892. 


224  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

their  pleasure  sacllj',  according  to  their  wont,"  as  Froissart  remarks 
concerning  their  far-away  ancestors. 

From  the  profits  earned  by  the  "Liberty  Bell"  the  ''Friend- 
ship "  has  been  built.  There  things  are  more  handsomely  done.  Not 
only  are  there  no  beds  in  tiers,  as  at  the  other  jDlace ;  but  each  is 
entirely  inclosed  in  a  locked  space,  eight  feet  high,  and  protected 
by  charged  electric  wires,  so  that  the  tenant  and  all  his  belongings 
are  safe  from  intrusion  or  theft.  The  same  accommodations  (in 
more  elegant  form)  are  offered  as  in  the  former  place,  and  the  en- 
tire charge  is  fifteen  cents.  The  originator  of  the  pleasant  and 
profitable  scheme  is  now  abroad,  looking  for  further  knowledge 
wherewith  to  provide  further  improvements. 

At  each  place  a  good  meal  is  served,  in  a  restaurant  attached,  at 
an  additional  charge  of  ten  cents.  The  savings  of  the  men  are  ac- 
cei^ted  and  cared  for  by  the  concern,  and  they  amount  to  a  very 
considerable  sum.  The  men  are  largely  dock-workers,  sailors  wait- 
ing for  the  opening  of  the  lakes,  mechanics  out  of  a  job,  workers  at 
light  trades  and  callings  about  town,  etc.  All  are  comfortably 
clothed  and  quite  free  from  any  marks  of  want. 

This  is  a  pleasant  aspect  of  the  labor  situation  ;  but  it  is  to  be 
remembered  that  here  we  have  only  the  able-bodied  single  men, 
the  class  which  is  last  to  feel  the  griping  hand  of  poverty.  Women 
and  children,  the  difficidt  and  distressing  element  in  the  social 
problem,  are  in  all  this  left  out  of  the  account.  The  dock-laborers 
among  these  men— the  largest  class— earn  from  twenty  to  twenty- 
five  cents  an  hour. 

On  the  North  Side  (255  Indiana  Street)  is  the  "  Home  for  Self- 
supporting  Women,"  which,  as  its  name  implies,  does  a  service  for 
the  other  sex  somewhat  similar  to  that  offered  to  men  at  the 
"  Friendship."  For  obvious  reasons  the  difliculties  in  dealing  with 
the  stronger  sex  are  greatly  magnified  when  the  weaker  is  in  ques- 
tion. Yet,  great  or  small,  those  difficulties  are  braved,  and,  to  a 
large  extent,  conquered.  Better  entertainment  must  be  (and  is) 
provided  :  larger  charges  must  therefore  be  imposed,  and  that  on 


AMONG    THE  POOR   OF   CHIVAGO 


225 


individuals  whose  wages  are  smaller.  Still  the  enterprise  is  nearly 
self-supporting-,  and  when  kindly  fate  shall  inspire  some  rich  and 
benevolent  friend  of  woman  to  pay  oil"  a  $10,000  mortgage  on  the 
realty  of  the  Home,  then  its  net  income  will  overtake  its  outgo,  and 
even  in  time  exceed  it,  making  its  devoted  ministers  (all  women) 


T-fl^i|gl^ 


QiU-t\^'-'^ 


A  Waif  at  the    Mission   Dormitory. 

able  to  extend  its  influence  in  an  ever-increasing  ratio.  Meantime 
the  annual  reports  are  written  in  an  admirable  style  of  good-hum- 
ored naivete  which  shows  that  work  and  worry  cannot  daunt  or  sad- 
den those  whose  hearts  are  in  their  business.  It  is  a  most  worthy 
and  successful  effort  at  the  best  kind  of  help  ;  but  it  still  leaves  un- 
touched the  problem  of  family  helplessness — the  soft,  elastic,  un- 
breakable bond  which  binds  the  hands  and  feet  of  mothers. 

Near  the  centre  of  business  are  two  institutions  for  the  care  of 
15 


226  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

homeless  newsboys,  bootblacks,  and  other  yoimg  street  workers, 
the  "  AVaifs'  Mission  and  Training-  Hcliool  "  and  the  "  Newsboys' 
Home."  The  former  has  a  school,  a  dining-room  and  kitchen,  a 
dormitory  with  fifty  beds,  a  bath-room,  a  g-ymuasium,  a  printing- 
office,  etc.,  and  its  plan  includes  military  drill  (with  a  brass  baud 
tVn-med  among  the  boys  themselves),  instruction  in  the  jn'inting 
business,  and  the  iinding  of  places  for  boys  old  enough  to  enter 
steady  employment.  Its  patrons  and  managers  include  judges  of 
court,  business  men  and  capitalists,  and  a  board  of  charitable 
women.  The  number  of  boys  accommodated  is  limited  to  the  num- 
ber of  beds. 

An  institution  somewhat  analogous  to  this  is  the  "  Illinois 
School  of  Agriculture  and  Manual  Training  for  Boys,"  placed  on 
three  hundred  acres  of  farming  land  at  Glenwood,  not  far  south  ( )f 
the  city  limits.  Until  this  school  was  started  (1887)  there  was  ab- 
solutely no  place  to  which  a  boy  could  be  sent  who  was  thrown 
upon  the  world  by  any  of  the  lamentable  casualties  to  which  every 
community  is  subject — orphanage,  desertion,  forced  separation  from 
drunken  or  criminal  parents.  The  courts  of  certain  counties  make  use 
of  this  as  a  refuge  for  such  boys,  and  allow  a  certain  small  monthly 
stipend  for  each  ;  but  this  is  necessarily  far  short  of  the  absolute 
requirements  of  proper  subsistence,  clothing,  and  education,  and 
more  money  than  the  school  has  yet  received  could  be  well  used  in 
it.  The  boys  are  provided  with  homes,  chiefly  with  farmers,  and 
the  average  outhiy  for  each,  up  to  the  time  when  he  is  so  provided 
for,  is  only  about  $60.  The  future  life  of  the  boy  is  kept  in  view 
and  recorded :  almost  always  with  results  that  justify  the  efforts. 

The  Newsboys'  and  Bootblacks'  Home  is  the  oldest  of  the  insti- 
tutions of  its  class.  It  cares  for  some  fifty  or  sixty  boys,  giving 
them  decent  sustenance  and  protection  at  lowest  cost,  and  also  pro- 
viding for  their  amusement  when  circumstances  permit.  Some 
philanthropic  persons  object  to  these  refuges  of  the  human  waifs 
and  strays  on  the  ground  that  they  encourage  boys  to  run  away 
from  their  families.     To  this  there  seem  to  be  two  possible  answers 


AMONG    TJIE  POOR   OF  CHICAGO  227 

— first,  that  every  lodge,  circle,  hospital,  asylum,  and  refuge  runs 
to  some  extent  against  the  family  relation,  not  even  excepting  the 
fashionable  club-houses;  next,  that  the  boys  in  the  missions  have 
perhaps  found  a  l)etter  home  than  they  left ;  that  the  change  for 
them  is  a  step  upward,  not  downward.  As  far  as  one  can  see,  it  is 
a  change  from  the  gutter  to  the  mission. 

The  sweat-s/w])  is  a  i^lace  where,  separate  from  the  tailor-shop 
or  clothing- warehouse,  a  "sweater"  (middleman)  assembles  jour- 
neymen tailors  and  needle-women,  to  work  under  his  supervision. 
He  takes  a  cheap  room  outside  the  dear  and  crowded  business  cen- 
tre, and  within  the  neighborhood  where  the  work  -  people  live. 
Thus  is  rent  saved  to  the  employer,  and  time  and  travel  to  the  em- 
ployed. The  men  can  and  do  work  more  hours  than  was  possible 
under  the  centralized  system,  and  their  wives  and  children  can 
help,  especially  when,  as  is  often  done,  the  garments  are  taken 
home  to  "  finish."  (Even  the  very  young  can  pull  out  l)asting- 
threads.)  This  "finishing"  is  what  remains  undone  after  the  ma- 
chine has  done  its  work,  and  consists  in  ''  felling  "  the  waist  and 
leg-ends  of  trousers  (paid  at  one  and  one-half  cent  a  pair),  and,  in 
short,  all  the  "felling"  necessary  on  every  garment  of  any  kind. 
For  this  service,  at  the  prices  paid,  they  cannot  earn  more  than 
from  twenty-five  to  forty  cents  a  day,  and  the  work  is  largely  done 
by  Italian,  Polish,  and  Bohemian  women  and  girls. 

The  entire  number  of  persons  employed  in  these  vocations  may 
be  stated. at  5,000  men  (of  whom  800  are  Jews),  and  from  20,000  to 
23,000  women  and  children.  The  wages  are  reckoned  by  "  piece- 
work," and  (outside  the  "  finishing  ")  run  about  as  follows : 

Girls,  hand-sewers,  earn  nothing  for  the  first  month,  then  as  un- 
skilled workers  they  get  $1  to  $1.50  a  week,  $3  a  week,  and  (as 
skilled  workers)  $6  a  week.  The  first-named  class  constitutes  fifty 
per  cent,  of  all,  the  second  thirty  per  cent.,  and  the  last  twenty  per 
cent.  In  the  general  work  men  are  only  employed  to  do  button- 
holing and  pressing,  and  their  earnings  are  as  follows :    "Pressers," 


2'JS 


THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 


$8  to  $12  a  week  ;  "  underpressers,"  $4  to  $7.     Cloak  operators  earn 
$8  to  S12  a  week.     Fonr-fiftlis  of  the  se\viiio--maclimes  are  furnished 
by  the  ''sweaters"  (middlemen);  also  needles,  thread,  and  Avax. 
The  "  sweat-shop  "  day  is  ten  hours  ;  but  many  take  work  home 


>?^"^ 


-1-,  "X.^^iVer 


The 


Bad  Lands." 


to  get  in  overtime  ;  and  occasionally  the  shops  themselves  are  kept 
open  for  extra  work,  from  which  the  hardest  and  ablest  workers 
sometimes  make  from  $14  to  $16  a  week.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
regular  work-season  for  cloakmaking-  is  but  seven  months,  and  for 
other  branches  nine  months,  in  the  j^ear.  The  averag-e  w^eekly  liv- 
ing- expenses  of  a  ma-n  and  wife,  with  two  children,  as  estimated  by 
a  self-educated  workman  named  Bisno,  are  as  follows:  Kent  (three 


AMONG   THE.  POOR   OB'  CHICAGO  229 

or  four  small  rooms),  $2  ;  food,  fuel,  and  light,  $4  ;  clothing-,  $2,  and 
beer  and  spirits,  $1. 

The  first  matter  complained  of  is  the  wretchedness  of  the  quar- 
ters. The  proposed  remedy  for  this  is  the  establishment  l)y 
clothiers  of  outlying-  workshops  which  shall  be  clean,  light,  and 
ventilated— in  other  words,  not  "  sweat-shops."  A  city  ordinance 
enacts  that  rooms  provided  for  workmen  shall  contain  space  equal 
to  five  hundred  cubic  feet  of  air  for  each  person  employed ;  but  in 
the  average  "  sweat-shop  "  only  about  a  tenth  of  that  quantity  is  to 
be  found.  In  one  such  place  there  were  fifteen  men  and  women  in 
one  room,  which  contained  also  a  pile  of  mattresses  on  which  some 
of  the  men  sleep  at  nig-ht.  The  closets  were  disgraceful.  In  an 
adjoining  room  were  piles  of  clothing,  made  and  unmade,  on  the 
same  table  wdth  the  food  of  the  family.  Two  dirty  little  children 
were  playing  about  the  floor. 

The  second  complaint  regards  the  public  good.  It  is  averred, 
with  apparent  reason,  that  clothing  should  not  be  exposed  to  con- 
tamination and  possible  infection  in  rooms  not  set  apart  for  work- 
ing-rooms, especially  in  private  houses,  where  members  of  the 
fjimily,  young  and  old,  may  quite  possibly  be  ill  of  dangerously 
contagious  fevers  and  other  complaints.  The  danger  of  contagion 
from  the  hands  of  the  workman  himself  is  multiplied  in  proportion 
as  the  tenement  is  crowded  where  the  garments  are  taken  for  work. 

Another  complaint,  urged  with  much  feeling,  is  that  when  the 
workers  set  up  a  "  Union  "  shop  of  their  own,  where  they  did  the 
very  best  w^ork  at  prices  as  low^  as  those  charged  at  the  "sweat- 
shops," but  (by  saving  the  profits  of  a  middleman)  were  able  to  give 
more  to  the  workers,  they  were  deliberately  and  confessedly  "  frozen 
oiit "  by  the  withholding  of  patronage  by  the  clothing  firms,  and 
this  after  having  been  in  prosperous  and  peaceable  operation  for 
two  years.  The  "sweaters  "  could  not  force  down  w^ages  as  low  as 
they  wished,  because  the  workers  in  the  "  Union  "  shops  were  doing 
so  well.  Therefore  they  got  the  employing  firms  to  refuse  Avork  to 
the  men's  own  estal)lisliment,  and  throw  it  all  into  the  middleman's 


230  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES    " 

hands.  A  firm  of  employers  for  whom  the  association  had  worked 
two  years  were  instrumental  in  this  incredil)le  cruelty.  It  is  said 
by  the  Avorkmen  that  they  were  driven  to  their  action  by  others  in 
the  business,  for  when  the  little  co-operative  concern  applied  for 
work,  they  were  referred  to  an  association  of  the  employing"  firms, 
and  were  there  absolutely  refused. 

The  "  SAveating'  sj^stem  "  has  been  in  operation  about  tAvelve 
years,  during-  which  time  some  firms  have  failed,  while  others  have 
increased  their  production  tenfold.  Meantime  certain  "  sweaters  " 
have  g-rown  rich;  two  having-  built  from  their  gains  tenement- 
houses  for  rent  to  the  poor  workers.  The  wholesale  clothing-  busi- 
ness of  Chicag-o  is  about  $20,000,000  a  year. 

Mr.  Bisno,  the  workman  to  whom  I  have  alluded,  has  been  led 
by  his  reading-  toward  Socialism  (very  far  from  Anarchism),  and  he 
thinks  that  poverty  and  drink  are  parent  and  child — povert}'  the 
parent.  A  talk  with  him  would  be  an  enlightenment  to  any  person 
who  had  not  already  adequate  knowledg-e  of  the  meaning-  of  the 
short  phrase  "A  good  day's  work."  He  would  g-et  a  new  idea  of  the 
unusual  ability,  mental  and  manual,  the  unflagg-ing-  speed,  the  un- 
wearied application  which  go  to  make  the  earning  of  a  day's  wages 
of  the  higher  grades.  He  thinks  that  he  could  not  maintain  such 
speed  without  some  liquid  stimulus,  in  which  other  equally  good 
workers  think  he  is  mistaken.  (At  the  same  time  he  is  extremely 
moderate.)  He  says  that  beer  is  sold  at  five  cents  the  measured 
pint  (yielding  two-and-a-half  glasses),  and  that  it  is  freely  brought 
into  the  "  sweat-shops,"  wherein,  in  fact,  the  workers  are  entirely 
independent  of  personal  control,  their  work  alone  being  subject  to 
inspection  and  criticism.  The  inspection  is  close  and  constant,  and 
failure  entails  the  doing  over  of  the  job.  Spoiling  (such  as  tearing 
while  ripping  spoiled  seams)  leads  to  deductions  from  pay.  The 
latter  is  very  rare. 

Division  of  labor  is  good:  scattering  of  workers  from  great 
groups  into  smaller  groups  is  good  ;  employment  of  women  in  their 
own  homes  is  good ;  prevention  of  theft  is  good,  and  cheai^ness  of 


I 

i 


Q. 

o 

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CO 

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LU 

5: 

en 


UN! 


AMONG   TIIP  POOR   OF  CHICAGO  233 

g-arments  is  ^ood.  Unwholesome  atmosphere,  moral  and  material, 
is  bad  ;  insufficient  wages  is  bad  ;  possibility  of  infection  is  bad, 
and  child-labor  is  (usually)  bad.  How  shall  the  good  be  preserved 
and  the  bad  cured  or  alleviated  ? 

At  the  head-quarters  of  the  West  Side  police  one  is  in  the  near 
neighborhood  of  the  "  Anarchist  Riot "  of  1886.  In  that  building 
the  police  force  was  mustered  and  formed  for  its  march  out  to  the 
anarchist  meeting-place,  500  feet  distant ;  and  there  67  of  the 
police,  killed  and  wounded,  were  laid  when  brought  back  a  few 
minutes  later.  The  messenger  in  attendance  is  one  of  the  severe- 
ly wounded,  now  too  much  shattered  to  do  more  than  light  tasks 
about  the  station.  Conversation  with  some  of  the  men  at  this  sta- 
tion has  led  me  to  a  new  appreciation  of  the  magnitude  of  the  is- 
sues then  and  there  fought  out,  and  the  linality  of  the  settlement 
arrived  at.     A  lieutenant  of  police  recently  said  to  me : 

"  The  whole  thing  is  played  out.  They  will  never  make  another 
experiment.  There  is  no  interest  in  anarchy  or  socialism  any  more, 
and  no  meetings  to  speak  of.  They  do  get  together,  some  of  them, 
at  Twelfth  Street  Turner  Hall,  but  you'd  never  knoAv  that  they  had 
ever  planned  a  riot  or  loaded  a  bomb.  No  ;  they  have  no  connec- 
tion with  hardship  and  poverty.  They  can  always  get  their  beer, 
and  that's  the  main  thing  with  them." 

These  quiet  and  unassuming  officers  of  law  and  order  know  that 
they  did  their  duty,  and  think  that  their  success  was  a  foregone 
conclusion.  They  do  not  know  that  though  other  "  stronger  "  gov- 
ernments could  have  put  down  anarchy  by  force  of  arms,  and 
hanged  or  shot  the  insurgents  by  martial  law,  yet  this  is  perhaps 
the  only  government  on  earth  which  could  have  met  such  a  move- 
ment by  the  ordinary  police  power,  and  then  have  given  the  guilty 
a  long  public  trial  before  "  a  jury  of  their  peers,"  and  have  relied 
on  a  verdict  of  conviction,  a  judgment  of  death,  and  the  deliberate 
execution  of  that  judgment. 

Mr.  Joseph  Greenhut  (himself  a  Socialist,  somewhat  out  of  sym- 


•2S4: 


THE  POOR  IX  GREAT   CITIES 


Laundry  and   Bath  at  the  Liberty  Bel! 


patliy  with  tlie  alleviation  of  poverty,  its  absolute  cure  Ijeing-,  in 
his  view,  possible  by  changes  in  the  constitution  of  society),  fur- 
nishes many  statistics  showing-  the  ruling  rates  of  wages  earned  in 
some  hundreds  of  trades  and  callings,  from  which  the  following  are 
selected : 

Per  diem. 

Bricklayers,  stone-cutters,  and  stone-masons .  .$4  00 

Plasterers 3  50  to  ^4  00 

Carpenters 2  50  to  2  80 

Bridge-builders 2  50  to  3  25 

Ship-carpenters  and  caulkers 2  00  to  3  50 

Machinists,  blacksmiths,  and  wagon-makers 2  00  to  2  50 

Pattern-makers  and  horse-shoers 2  75  to  3  50 

Engineers 2  00  to  5  00 

Grain-trimmers 2  75  to  3  50 

Lumber-shovers 3  00  to  6  00 

Sewer-builders 2  00  to  3  00 


AMOKG   THE  POOR   OF  CHICAGO  285 

I'er  diem. 

Plumbers,  gas-fitters,  jjainters,  photograiDhers,  printers,  etc .'$2  00  to  $3  50 

Boot-  and  shoe-makers,  cigar-makers,  millers,  stereotypers  and 
electrotypers,  copper,  tin,  and  sheet-iron  workers,  brass  fin- 
ishers, upholsterers,  etc 1  75  to  3  00 

Iron  and  steel  mill-workers,  japanners,  etc 1  50  to  G  00 

Tailors  and  suit-makers 1  00  to  3  00 

Type-founders,  furriers,  bookbinders,  furniture-workers,  distil- 
lers, brewers,  etc 1  50  to  3  00 

Sailors  (with  board) 1  50  to  '1  0(1 

Farmers 1  50  to  3  00 

Coopers,  fish-packers,  gravel-roofers,  freight-house  men,  laundry- 
men,  makers  of  iron  and  lead  pipe,  wire-goods,  vault-lights, 

etc 1  50  to  2  50 

Brick-makers 1  00  to  8  00 

Planing-mill  hands 1  25  to  2  25 

Harness-makers,  musical  instrument-makers 1  25  to  3  00 

Market-men,  ice-wagon  men,  etc 1  50  to  2  75 

Packing  and  slaughter-house  men 1  25  to  4  00 

Lumber-yard  hands 1  25  to  1  50 

Dock  laborers 1  00  to  2  00 

Confectioners,   millinery  and  straw-goods  makers,  hair-workers, 

etc 1  00  to  3  00 

Female  clerks ' ' 1  00  to  2  75 

Glove  and  mitten-makers GO  cents  to  3  00 

By  the  week. 

Drug  clerks $12  00  to  $25  00 

Telegraph  and  telephone  operators '. 10  00  to    20  00 

Bakers  and  barbers 10  00  to    14  00 

Stablemen 9  00  to    15  00 

Teamsters 9  00  to    12  00 

Dressmakers 6  00  to    15  00 

Office  stenographers  and  typewriters 6  00  to    20  00 

Mr.  Greenhut  estimates  tlie  iinniigraiit  nationalities  (including- 
their  cliildren)  composing-  Chicago  as  follows  :  Germans,  400,000  ; 
Irish,  210,000  ;  Sclavonians,  100,000  ;  Scandinavians,  110,000  ;  Eng- 
lish, Scotch,  and  Welsh,  80,000  ;  French  Canadians,  15,000  ;  Ital- 
ians, 15,000  ;  French,  5,000  ;  Colored,  13,000  ;  and  Chinese,  2,000. 

No  one  donbts  bnt  that  the  drink-bill  of  Chicag-o— estimated  at 
$1,000,000  a  week,  of  which  three-fourths  comes  from  the  pockets  of 


236 


THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 


the  poor — would  cliaug-e  into  prosperity,  practically,  all  the  adver- 
sity of  the  mifortuuate  classes,  just  as  the  drink-bill  of  Russia — 
$1,000,000  a  day — Avould  supplant  famine  by  abundance.  Much 
poverty  comes  from  drink  that  does  not  come  from  drunkenness. 


'/#'"" 


'  Liberty   Bell 


A  man  may  spend  in  drink  the  total  profit  on  his  earning-s,  the 
total  surplus  above  necessary  outg-oes,  and  it  may — usually  does— 
amount  to  an  insurance  fund  which,  well  invested,  would  form  a  re- 
spectable fortune  during-  his  prosperous  years.  Then,  when  old 
age,  sickness,  or  accident  befalls,  he  is   penniless.     His   poverty 


AMONG   THE  POOR   OF  CHICAGO  237 

s[)ring'S  from  drink  ;  no  matter  if  lie  never  was  drunk  in  liis  life. 
The  man  who  drinks  up  what  he  mig-lit  save  is  as  short-sighted  as 
the  hnsbandman  who  should  needlessly  eat  up  his  seed-wheat. 

"Paying-  off"  is  often  done  in  saloons,  in  which  the  paymaster 
may  or  may  not  be  interested.  It  is  a  vile  and  hurtful  practice.  A 
late  article  in  a  Chicago  paper  contains  the  following  words  on  this 
theme : 

Contractor  Piatkiewicz  said  some  of  his  workmen  liabitiially  spent  for  liquor 
half  their  earnings,  and  that  on  oi>e  jjay-night,  several  years  ago,  he  recollected 
that  out  of  a  total  of  $480  due  his  men,  the  chips  in  the  basket  gave  to  the 
saloon-keeper  $200.  To  add  to  this,  he  said  that  as  many  "  treats  all  around  " 
were  made  as  there  were  men  in  the  saloon.  From  a  large  number  of  sources 
it  was  learned  that  it  is  the  custom  with  the  Polish  laborers — the  violation  of 
which  means  disgrace — for  each  man  on  pay-night  to  treat  all  his  fellows,  the 
bartender  and  contractor  included,  and  for  the  two  latter,  when  it  comes  their 
turn,  to  treat  the  men.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  the  contractor  and  bartender 
rarely  have  to  pay  for  what  they  "  set  ui> "  to  the  crowd. 

The  possible  remedy  for  this  state  of  things — if  there  be  any 
remedy— is  outside  the  province  of  the  present  essay.  Suffice  it  to 
say  here,  that  the  non-expert  observer,  however  sympathetic,  is 
prone  to  feel  that  any  effort  at  relief  of  the  "  chosen  miseries  " 
which  does  not  strike  at  the  cause  of  the  choice,  is  futile. 

A  late  issue  of  the  Chicago  Tribune  had  the  following  suggest- 
ive paragraph : 

WoBK  Waiting  for  Unejiployed. 

THE   STATEMENT   ABOUT   CHICAGO'S   ARMY   OF   IDLE   MEN   REFUTED. 

"The  statement  that  there  are  30,000  to  50,000  laboring  men  out  of  employ- 
ment to-day  in  Chicago  is  false,"  said  Oscar  Kuehne  yesterday.  Mr.  Kuehne  is 
the  General  Agent  of  the  German  Benevolent  Society  and  is  in  a  position  to  know. 
"I  could  have  furnished,"  he  continued,  "during  the  month  of  March,  employ- 
ment to  300  or  400  more  men  than  I  did,  if  I  had  had  the  men  to  fill  the  appli- 
cations that  came  into  my  office.  Farmers  from  within  a  radius  of  thirty  miles 
of  Chicago  come  to  me  to  supply  them  with  farm-laborers,  and  when  I  tell  them 
that  I  haven't  men  for  them,  and  can't  get  the  sort  of  men  they  want,  they  ask  in 
surprise  where  these  50,000  unemjiloyed  in  Chicago  are.  At  one  o'clock  this 
afternoon  there  were   thirty  farmers  in  my  office  after  laborers.     They  would 


238  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

have  employed  fifty  men,  but  I  had  to  disappoint  them.  The  truth  of  the  mat- 
ter is  that  there  is  no  excuse  for  the  idleness  of  an  energetic  young  man  who  is 
not  married.  He  can  get  work  if  he  wants  it.  For  a  married  man  there  is 
more  excuse.  He  is  not  free  to  move  about  as  the  unmarried  man  is,  and  is 
more  limited  in  his  choice  of  occupations.  We  find  it  more  difficult  to  get 
work  for  men  of  families." 


There  is  some  chosen  poverty  which  is  not  necessarily  connected 
with  drink.  Many  instances  arise  in  the  minds  of  men  and  women 
who  are  trying  to  do  their  philanthropic  dnty. 

The  pitiable  man  is  he  who  cannot  get  work  to  do,  and  in  so  far 
as  this  article  on  poverty  in  the  West  does  not  present  the  harrow- 
ing pictures  of  want  elsewhere,  it  must'be  accounted  for  in  the  same 
way  as  was  the  shortness  of  the  celebrated  chapter  on  "  Snakes  in 
Iceland."  Work  and  wages,  seed-time  and  harvest,  have  not  yet 
failed  in  the  land.  And  the  art  of  making  the  wise  choice  of  pos- 
sible joys,  though  not  yet  fully  learned,  is  gaining  ground. 

The  overwhelming  tendency  of  modern  life  is  toward  the  cities. 
It  almost  seems  as  if  they  would  have  to  be  walled  about  in  order 
to  keep  in  the  country  the  proportions — four-fifths  at  least— which 
must  remain  there  in  order  to  provide  food  for  all.  Everything 
done  "  to  alleviate  the  condition  of  the  poor  in  great  cities  "  works 
in  the  direction  of  bringing  more  into  them  ;  and  no  argument  or 
persuasion,  or  more  solid  consideration  of  betterment,  prevails  to 
get  them  out  after  once  immersed  in  the  pleasurable  excitement  of 
gregarious  existence  ;  they  would  rather  starve  in  a  crowd  than 
grow  fat  in  quietude— especially  if  the  "  crowd  "  is  sprinkled  with 
aromatic  "  charity." 

Humanity,  like  other  semifluids,  moves  in  the  line  of  least  re- 
sistance and  most  propulsion.  Idleness  drifts  toward  where  com- 
miseration and  alms-giving  are  most  generous  and  unquestioning  ; 
love  of  drink  toward  where  beer  and  liquor  are  most  plentiful.  The 
free  soup-kitchen  is  a  profitable  neighbor  for  the  saloon.  Labor  is 
a  blessing— in  disguise  ;  and  a  free  gift  is  often  a  disguised  curse. 

Then  is  a  part  of  the  prevalent  philanthropic   feeling,  though 


AMONG    THE  POOR   OF  CHICAGO  230 

coniiiii;  from  the  uoblest  part  of  our  nature,  tainted  with  sentimen- 
tality and  sensationalism  '?  Is  it,  to  a  certain  extent,  the  vagary  of 
good  men  and  women  who,  consciously  or  unconsciously,  regard 
physical  labor  as  only  a  necessary  evil  ?  Is  it  part  of  the  new 
creed  which  sees  in  drink  not  the  cause  but  the  consequence  of  want 
and  misery  ?  Quien  s(tbe?  At  any  rate,  if  any  statement  should  be 
made  of  the  Western  aspect  of  the  matter,  as  it  appears  to  men 
dio  regard  duly  paid  toil  as  the  condition  of  well-being,  which 
statement  did  not  present  this  possibility  as  at  least  an  obtruding 
suspicion,  it  would  be  false  and  defective. 

"  In  the  sweat  of  thy  face  shalt  thou  eat  bread  "  was  not  a  curse 
but  a  blessing,  and  so  shall  be  until  a  dreary  Utopia  prevail,  com- 
petition giving  place  to  combination,  mankind  being  beaten  up  into 
an  omelet,  and  excelling  and  excellence  no  more. 

*.v.*  Major  Joseph  Kirkland,  the  writer  of  this  paper,  was  born  in  Geneva,  N.  Y.,  on 
January  7,  18B0,  and  died  in  Chicago,  INIay  4,  1894.  He  was  a  well-known  lawyer 
who  had  been  for  a  number  of  years  prominently  identified  with  Chicago.  His  first 
studies  of  social  questions  were  made  while  engaged  in  coal  mining  in  Illinois  and 
Indiana.  Two  novels  by  him,  "  Zury.  the  Meanest  Man  in  Spring  County."  and 
"The  McVeys,"  attracted  wide  attention  for  their  truth  to  the  life  depicted  and 
strong  powers  of  characterization. 


\ 


jVffif 


A  RIYEKSIDE  PAEISH 


By   WALTER   BESANT 


AUTHOR  OF   "ALL  SORTS  AND  CONDITIONS  OF   MEN' 


Along  the  Banks  of  the  Thames — The  Port  of  London — The  Sailou  Popu- 
lation— Past  Lawlessness  op  the  Riverside  Parishes — Rotherhithe — 
Shipwrights'  and  Other  Strikes — The  Parish  of  St.  James's,  Ratcliff 
— Its  Social  History — Charitable  Undertakings— Clubs  and  Larger 
Work — Some  Devoted  Lives. 

THERE  are  several  riverside  parishes  east  of  London  Bridg-e, 
not  counting"  the  ancient  towns  of  Deptford  and  Greenwich, 
which  formerly  lay  beyond  London,  and  could  not  be  reck- 
oned as  suburbs.  The  history  of  all  these  parishes,  till  the  pres- 
ent century,  is  the  same.  Once,  southeast  and  west  of  London, 
there  stretched  a  broad  marsh  covered  with  water  at  every  spring- 
tide ;  here  and  there  rose  islets  overgrown  with  brambles,  the 
haunt  of  wild  fowl  innumerable.  In  course  of  time,  the  city  hav- 
ing- g^own  and  stretched  out  long  arms  along  the  bank,  people 
began  to  build  a  broad  and  strong  river-wall  to  keep  out  the  floods. 
This  river- wall,  which  still  remains,  was  grradually  extended  until  it 
reached  the  mouth  of  the  river  and  ran  quite  round  the  low  coast 
of  Essex.     To  the  marshes  succeeded  a  vast  level,  low-lying,  fertile 


A  RIVERSIDE  PARISH 


241 


reg-ion  affording-  ,£roocl  pasture,  excellent  dairy  farms,  and  gardens 
i)f  fruit  and  vegetables.  The  only  inhabitants  of  this  district  were 
the  farmers  and  the  farmhands.  So  things  continued  for  a  thou- 
sand years,  while  the  ships  went  up  the  river  with  wind  and  tide, 
and  down  the  river  with  Avind  and  tide,  and  were  moored  below  the 


A   Sketch   in  the   Docks. 


Bridge,  and  discharged  their  cargoes  into  lighters,  which  landed 
them  on  the  quays  of  London  Port,  between  the  Tower  and  the 
Bridge.  As  for  the  people  avIio  did  the  work  of  the  Port — the  load- 
ing and  the  unloading — those  whom  now  w^e  call  the  stevedores, 
coalers,  dockers,  lightermen,  and  w^atermen,  they  lived  in  the  nar- 
row lanes  and  crowded  courts  above  and  about  Thames  Street. 

When  the  trade  of  London  Port  increased,  these  courts  became 
more  crowded  ;  some  of  them  overflowed,  and  a  colony  outside  the 

walls   was    established   in    St.    Katherine's    Precinct    beyond   the 

If) 


242  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT   CITIES 

Tower.  Next  to  St.  Katherine's  lay  the  fields  called  bj'  Htnw 
"  Wappiii  in  the  "NYose,"  or  Wash,  where  there  were  broken  pluccs 
in  the  wall,  and  the  water  poured  in  so  that  it  was  as  much  a  marsh 
as  when  there  was  no  dyke  at  all.  Then  the  Commissioners  of 
Sewers  thouo^ht  it  would  be  a  good  plan  to  encourage  people  to 
build  along-  the  wall,  so  that  they  would  be  personally  interested 
in  its  preservation.  Thus  arose  the  Hamlet  of  Wapi^ing',  which, 
till  far  into  the  eighteenth  century,  consisted  of  little  more  than  a 
single  long-  street,  w^ith  a  few  cross  lanes,  inhabited  by  sailor  folk. 
At  this  time— it  was  toward  the  end  of  the  sixteenth  century — Ix^- 
g-an  that  great  and  w^onderful  development  of  London  trade  which 
has  continued  without  any  cessation  of  g-rowth.  Gresham  began  it. 
He  taught  the  citizens  how  to  unite  for  the  common  weal ;  he  gave 
them  a  Bourse  ;  he  transferred  the  foreign  trade  of  Antwerp  to  the 
Thames.  Then  the  service  of  the  river  g-rew  apace  ;  where  one 
lig-hter  had  sufficed  there  were  now  wanted  ten  ;  "  Wappin  in  the 
Wose  "  became  crowded  Wapping- ;  the  long-  street  stretched  far- 
ther and  farther  along  the  river  beyond  Shad's  Well  ;  beyond  Rat- 
cliff  Cross,  wdiere  the  "red  cliif "  came  down  nearly  to  the  river 
bank;  beyond  the  "Lime-house;"  beyond  the  "Poplar"  Grove. 
The  whole  of  that  great  city  of  a  million  souls,  now  called  East 
London,  consisted,  until  the  end  of  the  last  century,  of  Whitechapel 
and  Bethnal  Green,  still  preserving  something  of  the  old  rusticity  ; 
of  Mile  End,  Stepney  and  Bow,  and  West  Ham,  hamlets  set  among 
fields,  and  market-gardens,  and  of  that  long  fringe  of  riverside 
streets  and  houses.  In  these  rural  hamlets  great  merchants  had 
their  country-houses  ;  the  place  was  fertile  ;  the  air  was  Avhole- 
some ;  nowhere  could  one  see  finer  flowers  or  finer  plants ;  the 
merchant-captains — both  those  at  sea  and  those  retired  —  had 
houses  Avith  garden-bowers  and  masts  at  Mile  End  Old  Town. 
Captain  Cook  left  his  wife  and  cliildren  there  when  he  went  sailing 
round  the  world  ;  here,  because  ground  was  cheap  and  plentiful, 
were  long  ro]3e-walks  and  tenter-grounds  ;  here  were  roadside  tav- 
erns and  gardens  for  the  thirsty  Londoner  on  a  summer  evening; 


en 

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A  RIVEttSIDE  PARISH  245 

liere  were  placed  many  almshouses,  dotted  about  among-  the  g-ar- 
dens,  where  the  poor  old  folks  lengthened  their  days  in  peace  and 
fresh  air. 

But  Riverside  London  was  a  far  different  place  ;  here  lived  none 
but  sailors,  watermen,  lightermen,  and  all  tliose  who  liad  to  do 
with  ships  and  shipping,  with  the  wants  and  the  pleasures  of  the 
sailors.  Boat-builders  had  their  yards  along-  the  bank  ;  mast-mak- 
ers, sail-makers,  rope-makers,  block-makers  ;  there  were  repairing- 
docks  dotted  about  all  down  the  river,  each  able  to  hold  one  ship 
at  a  time,  like  one  or  two  still  remaining  at  Rotherhithe  ;  there 
were  ship  -  Iniilding  yards  of  considerable  importance  ;  all  these 
places  employed  a  vast  number  of  workmen— carpenters,  caulkers, 
painters,  riggers,  carvers  of  figure  heads,  block-makers,  stevedores, 
lightermen,  watermen,  victuallers,  tavern-keei)ers,  and  all  the  rog- 
uery and  rlhauderle  that  always  gather  round  mercantile  Jack 
ashore.  A  crowded  suburb  indeed  it  was,  and  for  the  most  part 
Avith  no  gentle-folk  to  give  the  people  an  example  of  conduct,  tem- 
perance, and  religion.  At  best  the  master-mariners,  a  decorous 
people,  and  the  better  class  of  tradesmen,  to  lead  the  way  to  cliun-h. 
And  as  time  went  on  the  better  class  vanished,  until  the  riverside 
parishes  became  abandoned  entirely  to  mercantile  Jack,  and  to 
those  who  live  by  loading  and  unloading,  repairing  and  building 
the  ships,  and  by  showing-  Jack  ashore  how  fastest  and  best  to 
spend  his  money.  There  were  churches — AVapping,  St.  George  in 
the  East,  Shadwell,  and  Limehouse  they  are  there  to  this  day  ;  but 
Jack  and  his  friends  enter  not  their  portals.  Moreover,  when  they 
were  built  the  function  of  the  clergyman  was  to  perform  with  dig- 
nity and  reverence  the  services  of  the  church  ;  if  people  chose  not 
to  come,  and  the  law  of  attendance  could  not  be  enforced,  so  much 
the  worse  for  them.  Though  Jack  kept  out  of  church,  there  was 
some  religious  life  in  the  place,  as  is  shown  not  only  by  the  pres- 
ence of  the  church,  but  also  b}'  that  of  the  chapel.  Now,  Avherever 
there  is  a  clia]iel  it  indicates  thought,  independence,  and  a  sensi- 
ble elevation  al)Ove  the  reckless,  senseless  rabble.     Some  kinds  of 


246 


THIi:  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 


NoiK'Oiiforraity    also    indicate   a   first   step   toward   education  ami 

culture. 

He  who  now  stands  on  London  Bridg-e  and  looks  down  the  river, 

will  see  a  large 
number  of  steam- 
ers lying  off  the 
quays  ;  there  are 
b  a  r  g  e  s  ,  rive  r- 
steamers,  and 
boats ;  there  are 
great  ocean-steam- 
ers working  \\\)  or 
down  the  river ; 
but  there  is  little 
to  give  the  stran- 
ger even  a  suspi- 
cion of  the  enor- 
mous trade  that  is 
carried  on  at  the 
Port  of  London. 
That  Port  is  now 
hidden  behind  the 
dock  gates  ;  the 
trade  is  invisible 
unless  one  enters 
the  docks  and 
reckons  up  the 
ships  and  their 
tonnage,  the  ware- 
houses and  their 
contents.  But  a  hundred  years  ago  this  trade  was  visible  to  any 
who  chose  to  look  at  it,  and  the  ships  in  which  the  trade  was  car- 
ried on  were  visil)le  as  well. 

Below  the  Bridge,  the  river,  for  more  than  a  mile,  pursues  a 


^ 


:X- 


"Their  first  yearning  is  for  finery." 


A   niVMIiSIBBJ  PAJiLSII  247 

straight  course  Avith  a  iiuiforin  breadth.  It  then  bends  in  a  north- 
easterly direction  for  a  mile  or  so,  when  it  turns  southward,  pass- 
ing- Deptford  and  Greenwich.  Now,  a  hundred  years  ago,  for  two 
miles  and  more  below  the  bridge,  the  ships  lay  moored  side  by  side 
in  double  lines,  with  a  narrow  channel  between.  There  were  no 
docks ;  all  the  loading"  and  the  unloading  had  to  be  done  by  means 
of  barges  and  lighters  in  the  stream.  One  can  hardly  realize  this 
vast  concourse  of  boats  and  barges  and  ships ;  the  thousands  of 
men  at  work ;  the  passage  to  and  fro  of  the  barges  laden  to  tlie 
v.ater's  edge,  or  returning  empty  to  the  sliij)'s  side ;  the  yeo-heave- 
oh  !  of  the  sailors  hoisting  up  the  casks  and  bales  and  cases  ;  the 
shouting,  the  turmoil,  the  quarrelling,  the  lighting,  the  tumult 
ui:)on  the  river,  now  so  peaceful.  But  when  we  talk  of  a  riverside 
parish  we  must  remember  this  great  concourse,  because  it  was  the 
cause  of  practices  from  which  we  suffer  to  the  joresent  day. 

Of  these  things  we  may  be  perfectly  certain  :  First,  that  with- 
out the  presence  among,  a  people  of  some  higher  life,  some  nobler 
standard,  than  that  of  the  senses,  this  people  will  sink  rapidly  and 
surely.  Next,  that  no  class  of  persons,  whether  in  the  better  or  the 
"worser  rank,  can  ever  be  trusted  to  be  a  law  unto  themselves.  For 
which  reason  we  may  continue  to  be  grateful  to  our  ancestors  who 
caused  to  be  written  in  large  letters  of  gold,  for  all  the  world  to 
see  once  a  week,  "  Thus  saith  the  Loed,  Thou  slialt  not  steal," 
and  the  rest :  the  lack  of  which  reminder  sometimes  causeth,  in 
Nonconformist  circles,  it  is  whispered,  a  deplorable  separation  of 
faith  and  works.  The  third  maxim,  axiom,  or  self-evident  proposi- 
tion is,  that  when  people  can  steal  without  fear  of  consequences 
they  will  steal.  All  through  the  last  century,  and  indeed  far  into 
this,  the  only  influence  brought  to  bear  upon  the  common  people 
was  that  of  authority.  The  master  ruled  his  servants  ;  he  watched 
over  them  ;  when  they  were  young  he  had  them  catechised  and 
taught  the  sentiments  proper  to  their  station  ;  he  also  flogged  them 
soundly  ;  when  they  grew  up  he  gave  them  wages  and  work  ;  he 
made  them  go  to  church  regularly  ;  he  rewarded  them  for  industrj' 


248 


THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 


by  fraternal  care  ;  he  sent  tliem  to  the  almshouse  when  they  were 
old.  At  chnreh  the  sermons  were  not  for  the  servants  hut  for  the 
masters  ;  yet  the  former  were  reminded  every  week  of  the  Ten 
Commandments,  which  were  not  only  Avritten   out  large  for  all  to 


A  Mother's  Meeting. 


see,  but  were  read  out  for  their  instruction  every  Sunday  morning-. 
The  decay  of  authority  is  one  of  the  distinguishing-  features  of  the 
present  century. 

But  in  Eiverside  London  there  were  no  masters,  and  there  was 
no  authority  for  the  great  mass  of  the  people.  The  sailor  ashore 
had  no  master;  the  men  who  worked  on  the  lighters  and  on  the 


A  RIVERSIDE  PARISH 


249 


sliips  liacl  uo  master  except  for  the  day  ;  the  ig-nol)le  horde  of  those 
who  supi)lied  the  coarse  pleasures  of  the  sailors  had  no  masters ; 
they  were  not  made  to  do  anything  but  what  they  pleased  ;  the 
church  was  not  for  them ;  their  children  were  not  sent  to  school ; 
their  only  masters  were  the  fear  of  the  g-allows,  constantly  dangled 
before  their  eyes  at  Execution  Dock  and  on  the  shores  of  the  Isle 
of  Dog-s,  and  their  profound  respect  for  the  cat-o'-nine-tails.  They 
knew  no  morality  ; 
they  had  no  oth- 
er restraint  ;  they 
all  together  slid, 
ran,  fell,  leaped, 
danced,  and  rolled 
swiftly  and  easily 
adown  the  Prim- 
rose Path  ;  they 
fell  into  a  savagery 
the  like  of  which 
has  never  been 
known  among 
English-folk  since 
the  days  of  their 
conversion  to  the 

Christian  faith.  It  is  only  l)y  searching  and  poking  among  un- 
known pamphlets  and  forgotten  books  that  one  finds  out  the  act- 
ual depths  of  the  English  savagery  of  the  last  centur3^  And  it  is 
not  too  much  to  say  that  for  drunkenness,  brutality,  and  igno- 
rance, the  Englishman  of  the  baser  kind  touched  about  the  lowest 
depth  ever  reached  by  civilized  man  during  the  last  century. 
Wliat  he  was  in  Pdverside  London  has  been  disclosed  by  Oolqu- 
hoim,  the  Police  Magistrate.  Here  he  was  not  only  a  drunkard,  s. 
brawler,  a  torturer  of  dumb  beasts,  a  wife-beater,  a  profligate — he 
was  also,  with  his  fellows,  engaged  every  day,  and  all  day  long,  in 
a  vast  systematic  organized  depredation.     The  people  of  the  river- 


Children   at  Prayer  in  the   Chapel,  Heckford   House. 


250  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

side  wevG  all,  to  a  man,  river  pirates;  by  day  and  by  niiilit  tliey 
stole  from  the  ships.  There  were  often  as  many  as  a  thousand  ves- 
sels lying-  in  the  river;  there  were  many  hundreds  of  boats, 
barges,  and  lighters  eng-aged  upon  their  cargoes.  They  practised 
their  robberies  in  a  thousand  ingenious  ways  ;  they  weighed  the 
anchors  and  stole  them  ;  they  cut  adrift  lig-hters  when  they  were 
loaded,  and  when  they  had  floated  down  the  river  they  pillaged 
what  they  could  carry  and  left  the  rest  to  sink  or  swim  ;  they 
waited  till  night  and  then  rowed  off  to  half-laden  lighters  and 
helped  themselves.  Sometimes  they  went  on  board  the  ships  as 
stevedores  and  tossed  bales  overboard  to  a  confederate  in  a  boat 
below  ;  or  they  were  coopers  who  carried  under  their  aprons  bags 
Avhicli  they  filled  with  sugar  from  the  casks  ;  or  they  took  with 
them  bladders  for  stealing  the  rum.  Some  Avaded  about  in  the 
mud  at  low  tide  to  catch  anything  that  was  thrown  to  them  from 
the  ships.  Some  obtained  admission  to  the  ship  as  rat-catchers, 
and  in  that  capacity  were  able  to  carry  away  plunder  previously 
concealed  by  their  friends  ;  some,  called  settfflc -hunters,  stood  on  the 
quays  as  porters,  carrying  bags  under  their  long  aprons  in  which 
to  hide  whatever  they  could  pilfer.  It  was  estimated  that,  taking 
one  year  with  another,  the  dei^redations  from  the  shipping  in  the 
Port  of  London  amounted  to  nearly  a  cpiarter  of  a  million  sterling 
every  year.  All  this  was  carried  on  by  the  riverside  people.  But, 
to  make  robbery  successful,  there  must  be  accomplices,  receiving- 
houses,  fences,  a  way  to  dispose  of  the  goods.  In  this  case  the 
thieves  had  as  their  accomplices  the  whole  of  the  population  of  the 
quarter  where  they  lived.  All  the  public  houses  were  secret  mar- 
kets attended  by  grocers  and  other  tradesmen  where  the  booty  was 
sold  by  auction,  and,  to  escape  detection  fictitious  bills  and  ac- 
counts were  given  and  received.  The  thieves  were  known  among 
themselves  by  fancy  names,  which  at  once  indicated  the  special 
line  of  each  and  showed  the  popularity  of  the  calling  ;  they  \>'eve 
bold  pirates,  night  plunderers,  light  horsemen,  heavy  horsemen, 
mud-larks,  game  lightermen,  scuffle -hunters  and  gangsmen.     Their 


A    RIVERSIDE  PARISH 


251 


"  Her   bowsprit  and    her  figurehead  stick  out  over  the  street. 


thefts  enabled  them  to  live  in  the  coarse  profusion  of  meat  and 
drink,  which  was  all  they  wanted ;  yet  they  were  always  poor  be- 
cause their  plunder  was  knocked  down  for  so  little  ;  they  saved 


252  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

notliiu.s' ;  and  tliey  were  ahvays  egg-ed  on  to  new  robberies  by  the 
men  who  sokl  them  drinks,  the  women  who  took  their  money  from 
them,  and  tlie  honest  merchants  who  attended  the  secret  markets. 

I  dwell  upon  the  past  because  the  present  is  its  natural  legacy. 
When  you  read  of  the  efforts  now  being  made  to  raise  the  living, 
or  at  least  to  prevent  them  from  sinking  any  lower,  remember  that 
they  are  what  the  dead  made  them.  We  inherit  more  than  the 
wealth  of  our  ancestors  ;  we  inherit  the  consequences  of  their  mis- 
deeds. It  is  a  most  expensive  thing  to  suffer  the  people  to  drop 
and  sink  ;  it  is  a  biirden  which  we  lay  upon  posterity  if  we  do  not 
continually  spend  and  be  spent  in  lifting  them  up.  AThy,  Ave  have 
been  the  best  part  of  two  thousand  years  in  recovering  the  civiliza- 
tion which  fell  to  pieces  when  the  Eoman  Empire  decayed.  We 
have  not  been  fifty  years  in  dragging  up  the  very  poor  Avhom  Ave 
neglected  and  left  to  themselves,  the  galloAvs,  the  cat,  and  the 
press-gang  only  a  hundred  years  ago.  And  how  sIoav,  how  slow 
and  sometimes  hopeless,  is  the  work ! 

The  establishment  of  riA^er  police  and  the  construction  of  docks 
have  cleared  the  river  of  all  this  gentr3\  Ships  noAv  enter  the 
docks  ;  there  discharge  and  receive  ;  the  laborers  can  carry  away 
nothing  through  the  dock-gates.  No  apron  alloAvs  a  bag  to  be 
hidden  ;  policemen  stand  at  the  gates  to  search  the  men ;  the  old 
game  is  gone — A\'hat  is  left  is  a  surA'iving  spirit  of  lawlessness  ;  the 
herding  together  ;  the  hand-to-mouth  life  ;  the  love  of  drink  is  the 
chief  attainable  pleasure  ;  the  absence  of  conscience  and  responsi- 
bility ;  and  the  old  brutality. 

What  the  riverside  then  was  may  be  learned  by  a  small  piece  of 
Rotherhithe  in  which  the  old  things  still  linger.  Small  repairing- 
docks,  each  capable  of  liolding  one  vessel,  are  dotted  along  the 
street ;  to  each  are  its  great  dock-gates  keeping  out  the  high  tide, 
aud  the  quays  and  the  shops  and  the  care-taker's  lodge ;  the  ship 
lies  in  the  dock  shored  up  by  timbers  on  either  side,  and  the  work- 
men are  hammering,  caulking,  painting,  and  scraping  the  wooden 
hull  ;  her  bowsprit  and  her  figurehead  stick  out  over  the  street. 


A    RIVERSIDE  PARISH 


253 


Between  tlie  docks  are  small  two-storied  houses,  half  of  them  little 
shops  trying  to  sell  something- ;  the  piiblic-house  is  frequent,  but 
the  "  Humors  "  of  Eateliff  Highway  are  absent ;  mercantile  Jack  at 
Eotherhithe  is  mostly  Norwegian  and  has  morals  of  his  own.  Such, 
however,  as  this 
little  village  of 
Eotherhithe  is,  so 
were  "  Wappin  in 
the  Wose,"  Shad- 
well,  EatclifF,  and 
the  "  Lime-house  " 
a  hundred  years 
ago,  with  the  ad- 
dition of  street- 
fig  h  t  i  n  g  an  d 
brawling  all  day 
long ;  the  perpet- 
ual adoration  of 
r  u  m  ;  quarrels 
over  stolen  goods ; 
quarrels  over 
drunken  drabs  ; 
quarrels  over  all 
fours  ;  the  scrap- 
ing of  fiddles  from 
every  public- 
house,  the  noise  of  singing,  feasting,  and  dancing,  and  a  never-end- 
ing, still-beginning  debauch,  all  hushed  and  quiet — as  birds  cower 
in  the  hedge  at  sight  of  the  kestrel— Avhen  the  press-gang  swept 
down  the  narrow  streets  and  carried  off  the  lads,  unwilling  to  leave 
the  girls  and  the  grog,  and  put  them  aboard  His  Majesty's  tender 
to  meet  what  fate  might  bring. 

The  construction  of  the  great   docks  has  completely   changed 
this  quarter.     The  Precinct  of  St.  Katherine's  by  the  Tower  has  al- 


i!«5<'.Ji4^^'?[.. 


A  Little   Dance   at  the   Girls*    Institute. 


254  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

most  entirely  disappeared,  being-  covered  by  St.  Katlierine's  Dock  ; 
the  Loudon  Dock  has  reduced  Wapping  to  a  strip  covered  ^\\i\x 
Avarehouses.  But  the  church  remains,  so  frankly  i^roclaiming  itself 
of  the  eighteenth  century,  with  its  great  churchyard.  The  new 
Dock  Basin,  Limehouse  Basin,  and  the  AYest  India  Docks,  have 
sliced  huge  cantles  out  of  Shadwell,  Limehouse,  and  Poplar ;  the 
little  private  docks  and  boat-building  3^ards  have  disappeared  ; 
here  and  there  the  dock  remains,  with  its  river-gates  gone,  an  an- 
cient barge  reposing  in  its  black  mud ;  here  and  there  may  be 
found  a  great  building  which  Avas  formerly  a  Avarehouse  Avhen 
ship-building  Avas  still  carried  on.  That  branch  of  industry  Avas 
abandoned  after  1868,  when  the  shipAA'rights  struck  for.  higher 
wages.  Their  action  transferred  the  ship-building  of  the  country 
to  the  Clyde,  and  threw  out  of  work  thousands  of  men  who  hud 
been  earning  large  Avages  in  the  yards.  Before  this  unlucky  event 
Riverside  London  had  been  rough  and  squalid,  but  there  were  in  it 
plenty  of  people  earning  good  wages — skilled  artisans,  good  crafts- 
men. Since  then  it  has  been  next  door  to  starving.  The  effect  of 
the  shipwrights'  strike  may  be  illustrated  in  the  history  of  one 
couple. 

The  man,  of  L'isli  parentage,  though  born  in  Stepney,  was  a 
painter  or  decorator  of  the  saloons  and  cabins  of  ships  :  he  was  a 
highly  skilled  Avorkman  of  taste  and  dexterity  :  he  could  not  only 
paint  but  he  could  carve  :  he  made  about  three  pounds  a  week  and 
lived  in  comfort.  The  wife,  a  decent  Yorkshire  woman  AA'hose  man- 
ners Avere  very  much  above  those  of  the  Riverside  folk,  was  a  feAV 
years  older  than  her  husband  :  they  had  no  children.  During  the 
years  of  fatness  they  saved  nothing  ;  the  husband  was  not  a  drunk- 
ard, but,  like  most  Avorkmen,  he  liked  to  cut  a  figure  and  to  make  a 
shoAv.  So  he  saved  little  or  nothing.  When  the  yard  was  finally 
closed  he  had  to  cadge  about  for  work.  Fifteen  years  later  he  was 
found  in  a  single  room  of  the  meanest  tenement-house  :  his  furni- 
ture Avas  reduced  to  a  bed,  a  table,  and  a  chair  :  all  that  they  had 
Avas  a  little  tea  and  no  money — no  money  at  all.     He  was  Aveak  and 


^»t'»»l 


,|j^,j;.i^«>*^*' 


■     > 


^    K 


I 


'  1  "^/.d  f  -■ 


H',. 


^Hl  KflBUiiffl, 

■Hf  V^          \ 

^^^^^H   i^^^^^^^^^^V" ' 

i¥  1 

^ 

\^^^^K  \                     fi 

wi 

V  1 

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SzafichittCf  tnJi'  yria/H  .ja   ^fu.  xl^bck  C^«.*J 


SEARCHING  THE    MEN    AT    THE    DOCK    GATES. 


A  RIVERSIDE  PARISH  257 

ill  with  ti'iKlg-ing-  about  in  search  of  work  :  he  was  lying-  exhausted 
on  the  bed  while  his  wife  sat  crouched  over  the  little  bit  of  fire. 
This  was  how  they  had  lived  for  fifteen  years — the  whole  time  on 
the  verg-e  of  starvation.  Well,  they  were  taken  away ;  they  were 
persuaded  to  leave  their  quarters  and  to  try  another  place  where 
odd  jobs  were  found  for  the  man,  and  where  the  woman  made 
friends  in  private  families  for  whom  she  did  a  little  sewing.  But  it 
was  too  late  for  the  man  ;  his  privations  had  destroyed  his  sleight 
of  hand,  though  he  knew  it  not ;  the  fine  workman  was  gone  ;  he 
took  painters'  paralysis,  and  very  often  when  work  was  oflered  his 
hand  would  drop  before  he  could  begin  it  ;  then  the  long  years  of 
tramping  about  had  made  him  restless  ;  from  time  to  time  he  was 
fain  to  borrow  a  few  shillings  and  to  go  on  the  tramp  again,  pre- 
tending that  he  was  in  search  of  work  ;  he  would  stay  away  for  a 
fortnight,  marching  about  from  i:)lace  to  place,  heartily  enjoying 
the  change  and  the  social  evening  at  the  public-houses  where  he 
]iut  up.  For,  though  no  drunkard,  he  loved  to  sit  in  a  warm  bar 
and  to  talk  over  the  splendors  of  the  past.  Then  he  died.  No 
one,  now  looking  at  the  neat  old  lady  in  the  clean  white  cajj  and 
apron  who  sits  all  day  in  the  nursery  crooning  over  her  work, 
would  believe  that  she  has  gone  through  this  ordeal  by  famine, 
and  served  her  fifteen  years'  term  of  starvation  for  the  sins  of 
others. 

The  Parish  of  St.  James's,  Eatcliff,  is  the  least  known  of  River- 
side London.  There  is  nothing  about  this  parish  in  the  Guide- 
books ;  nobody  goes  to  see  it.  Why  should  they?  There  is  nothing 
to  see.  Yet  it  is  not  without  its  romantic  touches.  Once  there  was  5 
here  a  cross  —  the  Eatclifi"  Cross  —  but  nobody  knows  what  it  was, 
when  it  w^as  erected,  why  it  was  erected,  or  when  it  was  pulled 
down.  The  oldest  inhabitant  now  at  Ratcliff  remembers  that  there 
was  a  cross  here  —  the  name  survived  until  the  other  day,  attached 
to  a  little  street,  but  that  is  now  gone.  It  is  mentioned  in  Dryden. 
And  on  the  Queen's  accession,  in  1837,  she  was  proclaimed,  among 

other  places,  at  Ratcliff  Cross  —  but  why,  no  one  knows.     Once  the 

17 


25S 


THE  POOE  IN  GEE  AT  CITIES 


T-e   Qja.  =  -    Meeting-House. 


Ship^-i-igkts'  Company  had  their  ball  here  ;  it  stood  amon.£r  g-ardens 
where  the  scent  of  the  gillyflower  and  the  stock  ming-led  with  the 
scent  of  the  tar  fi-om  the  neighboring-  rope-yard  and  boat-building 


A  RIVERSIDE  PARISH  :>59 

yard ;  iu  the  old  daj's,  mauj'  were  tlie  feasts  wliich  the  jolly  ship- 
wrights held  in  their  hall  after  service  at  St.  Diiustau"s,  Stepuej-. 
TJie  hall  is  now  pulled  down,  and  the  Comi^any,  which  is  one  of  the 
smallest,  worth  an  income  of  less  than  a  thousand,  has  never  built 
another.  Then  there  are  the  Katcliff  Stairs — rather  dirty  and  di- 
lapidated to  look  at,  but,  at  half-tide,  aflbrding  the  best  view  one 
can  get  any  where  of  the  Pool  and  the  shipping-.  In  the  good  old 
da^'S  of  the  scuffle -hunters  and  the  heavj'  horsemen,  the  view  of  the 
thousand  ships  moored  in  their  long  lines  with  the  narrow  passage 
between  was  splendid.  History  has  deigned  to  speak  of  Eatcliff 
Stairs,  "Twas  by  these  steps  that  the  gallant  AYilloughby  embarked 
for  his  fatal  voj-age  ;  with  flags  flying  and  the  discharge  of  guns  he 
sailed  jjast  Green-ndch,  hoping  that  the  king  would  come  forth  to 
see  him  pass.  Alas  I  the  young  king  lay  a-dj-ing,  and  Willoughbj^ 
himself  was  sailing  ofl'  to  meet  his  death. 

The  parish  contains  four  good  houses,  all  of  which,  I  believe, 
are  marked  iu  Koque's  map  of  1745. 

One  of  these  is  now  the  vicarage  of  the  new  church  ;  it  is  a  large, 
solid,  and  substantial  house,  built  early  in  the  last  centurv,  when  as 
yet  the  light  horsemen  and  lumpers  were  no  nearer  than  Wapping. 
The  walls  of  the  dining-room  are  i3ainted  with  Italian  landscapes  to 
which  belongs  a  romance.  The  paintings  were  executed  by  a  young 
Italian  artist.  For  the  sake  of  convenience  he  was  allowed  by  the 
merchant  who  then  lived  here,  and  emploj^ed  him,  to  stay  in  the 
house.  Now  the  merchant  had  a  daughter,  and  she  was  fail- ;  the 
artist  was  a  goodly  jouth,  and  inflammable  ;  as  the  poet  says,  their 
eyes  met ;  presently,  as  the  poet  goes  on,  their  lips  met ;  then  the 
merchant  found  out  what  was  going  on,  and  ordered  the  young 
man,  with  good  old  British  determination,  out  of  the  house  ;  the 
young  man  retired  to  his  room,  presumably  to  pack  u^  his  things. 
But  he  did  not  go  out  of  the  house  ;  instead  of  that,  he  hanged  him- 
self in  his  room.  His  ghost,  naturally,  continued  to  remain  iu  the 
house,  and  has  been  seen  by  many,  ^liy  he  has  not  long  ago 
joined  the  ghost  of  the  voung  ladv  is  not  clear,  unless  that,  like 


260  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

mam'  g-liosts,  liis  chief  pleasure  is  in  keeping-  as  miserable  as  lie 
possibly  can. 

Tlie  second  large  house  of  the  parish  is  aj^parently  of  the  same 
date,  but  the  broad  g^arden  in  which  it  formerly  stood  has  been  built 
over  by  mean  tenement-houses ;  nothing-  is  known  about  it ;  at 
Ijresent  certain  Boman  Catholic  sisters  live  in  it  and  carry  on  some 
kind  of  work. 

The  third  great  house  is  one  of  the  few  surviving  sx)ecimens  of 
the  merchant's  warehouse  and  residence  in  one.  It  is  now  an  old 
and  tumble-down  place.  Its  ancient  history  I  know  not.  AVliut 
rich  and  costly  bales  were  hoisted  into  this  warehouse ;  what  goods 
lay  here  waiting  to  be  carried  down  the  Stairs,  and  so  on  board 
ship  in  the  Pool ;  what  fortunes  were  made  and  lost  here  one  knows 
not.  Its  ancient  history  is  gone  and  lost,  but  it  has  a  modern  his- 
tory. Here  a  certain  man  began,  in  a  small  way,  a  work  which  has 
grown  to  be  great ;  here  he  spent  and  was  spent ;  here  he  gave  his 
life  for  the  work,  which  was  for  the  children  of  the  poor.  He  was  a 
young  physician ;  he  saw  in  this  squalid  and  crowded  neighbor- 
hood the  lives  of  the  children  needlessly  sacrificed  by  the  thou- 
sand for  the  want  of  a  hos^jital ;  to  be  taken  ill  in  the  wretched  room 
Avhere  the  whole  family  lived  was  to  die ;  the  nearest  hospital  was 
two  miles  away.  The  j^oung  physician  had  but  slender  means,  but 
he  had  a  stout  heart.  He  found  this  house  empty,  its  rent  a  song. 
He  took  it,  ]iut  in  half  a  dozen  beds,  constituted  himself  the  physi- 
cian and  his  wife  the  nurse,  and  opened  the  Children's  Hospital. 
Yery  soon  the  rooms  became  wards  ;  the  wards  became  crowded 
with  children  ;  the  one  nurse  was  multiplied  by  twenty  ;  the  one 
physician  by  six.  Yery  soon,  too,  the  physician  lay  upon  his  death- 
bed, killed  by  the  work.  But  the  Children's  Hospital  was  founded, 
and  now  it  stands,  not  far  off,  a  stately  building  with  one  of  its 
wards — the  Heckford  Ward — named  after  the  jDliysician  who  gave 
his  own  life  to  save  the  children.  When  the  house  ceased  to  be  a 
hospital  it  was  taken  l)y  a  Mr.  Dawson,  who  was  first  to  start  here  a 
club  for  the  very  rough  lads.     He,  too,  gave  his  life  for  the  cause, 


A  RIVERSIDE  PARISH 


261 


for  the  illness  which  killed  him  was  due  to  overwork  and  neglect. 
Devotion  and  death  are  therefore  associated  with  this  old  house. 

The  fourth  large  house  is  now  degraded  to  a  common  lodo-ino-- 
house.     But  it  has  still  its  line  old  staircase. 

The  Parish  of  St.  James's,  EatclifF,  consists  of  an  irregular  patch 
of  ground  having  the  river  on  the  south,  and  the  Commercial  Eoad, 


Boys   Playing    Bagatelle 


Heckford    HoUo 


one  of  the  great  arteries  of  London,  on  the  north.  It  contains 
about  seven  thousand  people,  of  whom  some  three  thousand  are 
Irish  Catholics.  It  includes  a  number  of  small,  mean,  and  squalid 
streets ;  there  is  not  anywhere  in  the  great  city  a  collection  of 
streets  smaller  or  meaner.  The  people  live  in  tenement-houses, 
very  often  one  family  for  every  room — in  one  street,  for  instance,  of 
fifty  houses,  there  are  one  hundred  and  thirty  families.  The 
men  are  nearly  all  dock-laborers — the  descendants  of  the  scuffle- 
hunters,  whose  traditions  still  survive,  perhaps,  in  an  unconquer- 


262  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

able  hatred  of  government.  The  women  and  girls  are  shirt-makers, 
tailoresses,  jam-makers,  biscuit-makers,  match-makers,  and  rope- 
makers. 

In  this  parish  the  only  g-entle-folk  are  the  clerg-y  and  the  ladies 
working  in  the  parish  for  the  Church  ;  there  are  no  substantial 
shopkeepers,  no  private  residents,  no  lawyer,  no  doctor,  no  profes- 
sional people  of  any  kind ;  there  are  thirty-six  public-houses,  or 
one  to  every  hundred  adults,  so  that  if  each  spends  on  an  average 
onlj^  two  shillings  a  week,  the  weekly  takings  of  each  are  ten 
pounds.  Till  lately  there  were  forty-six,  but  ten  have  been  sup- 
pressed ;  there  are  no  places  of  public  entertainment,  there  are  no 
books,  there  are  hardly  any  papers  except  some  of  those  Irish 
pai3ers  whose  continued  sufferance  gives  the  lie  to  their  own  ever- 
lasting charges  of  Eng-lish  tyranny.  Most  significant  of  all,  there 
are  no  Dissenting-  chapels,  with  one  remarkable  exception.  Fif- 
teen chapels  in  the  three  parishes  of  Ratcliff,  Shadwell,  and  St. 
George's  have  been  closed  during  the  past  twenty  years.  Does 
this  mean  conversion  to  the  Aug-lican  Church  ?  Not  exactly  ;  it 
means,  first,  that  the  people  have  become  too  poor  to  maintain  a 
chapel,  and  next,  that  they  have  become  too  poor  to  think  of  relig- 
ion. So  long  as  an  Englishman's  head  is  above  the  grinding  mis- 
ery, he  exercises,  as  he  should,  a  free  and  independent  choice  of 
creeds,  therein"  vindicating  and  asserting  his  liberties.  Here  there 
is  no  chapel,  therefore  no  one  thinks;  they  lie  like  sheep;  of 
death  and  its  possibilities  no  one  heeds ;  they  live  from  day  to 
day ;  when  they  are  young  they  believe  they  will  be  always  young  ; 
when  they  are  old,  so  far  as  they  know,  they  have  been  always 
old. 

The  people  being  such  as  they  are— so  poor,  so  helpless,  so 
ignorant — what  is  done  for  them  ?  How  are  they  helped  upward  ? 
How  are  they  driven,  i)ushed,  shoved,  pulled,  to  prevent  them  from 
sinking  still  lower  ?  For  they  are  not  at  the  lowest  depths  ;  they 
are  not  criminals  ;  up  to  their  lights  they  are  honest ;  that  poor 
fellow  who  stands  with  his  hands  ready — all  he  has  got  in  the  wide 


A   RIVERSIDE  PARISH 


2G3 


world— only  his  liauds— no  trade,  no  craft,  no  skill— will  give  you 
a  good  day's  work  if  you  en.o-ag-e  him  ;  he  will  not  steal  things;  he 
Avill  drink  more  than  he  should  with  the  money  you  give  him ;  he 
will  knock  his  wife 
down  if  she  angers 
him  ;  but  he  is  not 
a  criminal.  That 
step  has  yet  to  be 
taken  ;  he  will  not 
take  it  ;  but  his 
children  may,  and 
unless  they  are  pre- 
vented they  cer- 
tainly will.  For  the 
London-born  child 
very  soon  learns 
the  meaning  of  the 
Easy  Way  and  the 
Primrose  Path.  We 
have  to  do  with  the 
people  ignorant, 
drunken,  helpless, 
always  at  the  point 
of  destitution,  their 
M'hole  thoughts  as 
much  concentrated 
upon  the  difficulty 
of  the  daily  bread 

as    ever   were    those  Bru.hmakei,  St   James's,  RatcMf. 

of    their    ancestor 

who  roamed  about  the  Middlesex  Forest  and  hunted  the  bear  with 

a  club,  and  shot  the  wild-goose  with  a  flint-headed  arrow. 

First  there  is  the  Church  work;   that   is   to    say,  the   various 
agencies  and  machinery  directed  by  the  vicar.     Perhaps  it  may  be 


204  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

a  new  thing  to  some  American  readers  to  learn  liow  .much  of  the 
time  and  thoughts  of  our  Anglican  beneficed  clergymen  are  wanted 
for  things  not  directly  religious.  The  church,  a  plain  and  unpre- 
tending edifice,  built  in  the  year  1838,  is  served  by  the  vicar  and 
two  curates.  There  are  daily  services,  and  on  Sundays  an  early 
celebration.  The  average  attendance  at  the  regular  Sunday  mid- 
day service  is  about  one  hundred;  in  the  evening  it  is  generally 
double  that  number.  They  are  all  adults.  For  the  children  an- 
other service  is  held  in  the  Mission  Room.  The  average  attend- 
ance of  the  Sunday-schools  and  Bible  classes  is  about  three  hun- 
dred and  fifty,  and  would  be  more  if  the  vicar  had  a  larger  staff  of 
teachers,  of  whom,  however,  there  are  forty-two.  The  whole  num- 
ber of  men  and  women  engaged  in  organized  work  connected  with 
the  Church  is  about  one  hundred  and  twenty-six.  Some  of  them 
are  ladies  from  the  other  end  of  London,  but  most  belong  to  the 
parish  itself  ;  in  the  choir,  for  instance,  are  found  a  barber,  a  post- 
man, a  care-taker,  and  one  or  two  small  shopkeepers,  all  living  in 
the  parish.  When  we  remember  that  Ratcliff  is  not  what  is  called 
a  "  show  "  parish,  that  the  newspapers  never  talk  about  it,  and 
that  rich  people  never  hear  of  it,  this  indicates  a  very  considera- 
ble support  to  Church  work. 

In  addition  to  the  church  proper  there  is  the  "Mission  ChaiDcl," 
where  other  services  are  held.  One  day  in  the  week  there  is  a 
sale  of  clothes  at  very  small  prices.  They  are  sold  rather  than 
given,  because  if  the  women  have  paid  a  few  pence  for  them  they 
are  less  willing  to  pawn  them  than  if  they  had  received  them  for 
nothing.  In  the  Mission  Chai3el  are  held  classes  for  young  girls 
and  services  for  children. 

The  churchyard,  like  so  many  of  the  London  church}' ards,  has 
been  converted  into  a  recreation-ground,  where  there  are  trees  and 
flower-beds,  and  benches  for  old  and  young. 

Outside  the  Church,  but  yet  connected  with  it,  there  is,  first,  the 
Girls'  Club.  The  girls  of  Ratcliff  are  all  working-girls  ;  as  might 
be  expected,  a  rough  and  wild  company,  as  untrained  as  colts,  yet 


A  RIVERSIDE  PARISH 


2G5 


open  to  kindly  and  considerate  treatment.  Their  first  yearning-  is 
for  finery  ;  give  them  a  high  liat  with  a  flaring  ostrich  feather,  a 
phish  jacket,  and  a  "  fringe,"  and  they  are  happy.  There  are 
seventy-five  of  these  girls  ;  they  use  their  club  every  evening,  and 


The   Choir  of  the   Parish   Church. 


they  have  various  classes,  though  it  cannot  be  said  that  they  are 
desirous  of  learning  anything.  Needlework,  especially,  they  dis- 
like ;  they  dance,  sing,  have  musical  drill,  and  read  a  little.  Five 
ladies  who  work  for  the  church  and  for  the  club,  live  in  the  club- 
house, and  other  ladies  come  to  lend  assistance.  When  we  consider 
what  the  homes  and  the  companions  of  these  girls  are,  what  kind 


266  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

of  men  will  be  their  liiisbancls,  and  that  they  are  to  become  mothers 
of  the  next  generation,  it  seems  as  if  one  could  not  possibly  attempt 
a  more  useful  achievement  than  their  civilization.  Above  all.  this 
club  stands  in  the  way  of  the  greatest  curse  of  East  London — the 
boy  and  girl  marriage.  For  the  elder  women  there  are  Mothers' 
Meetings,  at  which  two  hundred  attend  every  week  ;  and  there 
are  branches  of  the  Societies  for  Nursing  and  Helping  Married 
Women. 

For  general  purposes  there  is  a  Parish  Sick  and  Distress  Fund ; 
a  fund  for  giving  dinners  to  poor  children  ;  there  is  a  frequent  dis- 
tribution of  fruit,  vegetables,  and  flowers,  sent  up  by  people  from 
the  country.  And  for  the  children  there  is  a  large  room  which  they 
can  use  as  a  play -room  from  four  o'clock  till  half-past  seven.  Here 
they  are  at  least  warm ;  were  it  not  for  this  room  they  would  have 
to  run  about  the  cold  streets  ;  here  they  have  games  and  pictures 
and  toys.  In  connection  with  the  work  for  the  girls,  help  is  given 
by  the  Metropolitan  Association  for  Befriending  Young  Servants, 
which  takes  charge  of  a  good  many  of  the  girls. 

For  the  men  there  is  one  of  the  institutions  called  a  Tee-to- 
tum  Club,  Avhich  has  a  grand  cafe  open  to  everybody  all  day  long  ; 
the  members  manage  the  club  themselves  ;  they  have  a  concert  once 
a  week,  a  dramatic  performance  once  a  week,  a  gymnastic  display 
once  a  week ;  on  Sunday  they  have  a  lecture  or  an  address,  with  a 
discussion  after  it :  and  they  have  smaller  clubs  attached  for  foot- 
ball, cricket,  rowing,  and  swimming. 

For  the  younger  lads  there  is  another  club,  of  one  hundred  and 
sixty  members;  they  also  have  their  gymnasium,  their  foot-ball, 
cricket,  and  swimming  clubs ;  their  classes  for  carpentry,  wood- 
carving,  singing,  and  shorthand;  their  savings'  bank,  their  sick 
club,  and  their  library. 

Only  the  better  class  of  lads  belong  to  this  club.  But  there  is  a 
low^er  set,  those  Avho  lounge  about  the  streets  at  night,  and  take  to 
gambling  and  betting.  For  these  boys  the  children's  play-room  is 
opened  in  the  evening  ;    here  they  read,  talk,  box,  and  play  baga- 


A   RIVERSIDE  PARISH 


267 


telle,  draugflits,  and  dominos.      These  lads  are  as  rough  as  cau  be 
found,  yet  on  the  whole  they  give  very  little  trouble. 

Another  important  institution  is  the  Country  Holiday  ;  this  is 


Smoking  Concert  at  the   Tee-to-tum,    St.  James  3,    Rjtcliff. 


accomplished  by  saving-.  It  means,  while  it  lasts,  an  expenditure 
of  live  shillings  a  week  ;  sometimes  the  lads  are  taken  to  the  sea- 
side and  live  in  a  barn  ;    sometimes  the  girls  are  sent  to  a  village 


268  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

and  placed  about  in  cottages.     A  great  number  of  the  girls  and 
lads  go  off  every  year  a  hopping  in  Kent. 

Add  to  these  the  temperance  societies,  and  we  seem  to  complete 
the  organized  work  of  the  Church.  It  must,  however,  be  remem- 
bered that  this  work  is  not  confined  to  those  who  attend  the  ser- 
vices or  are  Anglican  in  name.  The  clergy  and  the  ladies  who  help 
them  go  about  the  whole  parish  from  house  to  house  ;  they  know 
all  the  people  in  every  house,  to  whatever  creed  they  belong  ;  their 
visits  are  looked  for  as  a  kind  of  right ;  they  are  not  insulted  even 
by  the  roughest ;  they  are  trusted  by  all ;  as  they  go  along  the 
streets  the  children  run  after  them  and  hang  upon  their  dress  ;  if  a 
strange  man  is  walking  with  one  of  these  ladies  they  catch  at  his 
hands  and  pull  at  his  coat-tails — we  judge  of  a  man,  you  see,  by  his 
companions.  All  this  machinery  seems  costly.  It  is,  of  course,  far 
bej'ond  the  slender  resources  of  the  parish.  It  demands,  however, 
no  more  than  £850  a  year,  of  which  £310  is  found  by  different  so- 
cieties, and  the  sum  of  £500  has  to  be  raised  somehow. 

There  are,  it  has  been  stated,  no  more  than  seven  thousand  peo- 
ple in  this  parish,  of  whom  nearly  half  belong  to  the  Church  of 
Rome.  It  would,  therefore,  almost  seem  as  if  every  man,  woman, 
and  child  in  the  place  must  be  brought  under  the  influence  of  all  this 
work.  In  a  sense  all  the  jpeople  do  feel  the  influence  of  the  Church, 
whether  they  are  Anglicans  or  not.  The  parish  system,  as  you 
have  seen,  provides  everything  ;  for  the  men,  clubs  ;  for  the  women, 
nursing  in  sickness,  friendly  counsel  always,  help  in  trouble  ;  the 
girls  are  brought  together  and  kept  out  of  mischief  and  encouraged 
in  self-respect  by  ladies  who  understand  what  they  want  and  how 
they  look  at  things  ;  the  grown  lads  are  taken  from  the  streets,  and, 
with  the  younger  boys,  are  taught  arts  and  crafts,  and  are  trained 
in  manly  exercises  just  as  if  they  were  boys  of  Eton  and  Harrow. 
The  Church  services,  which  used  to  be  everything,  are  now  only  a 
part  of  the  parish  work.  The  clergy  are  at  once  servants  of  the 
altar,  preachers,  teachers,  almoners,  leaders  in  all  kinds  of  societies 
and  clubs,  and  providers  of  amusements  and  recreation.     The  peo- 


A  RIVERSIDE  PARISH 


269 


pie  look  on,  hold  out  their  hands,  receive,  at  first  indifferently — but 
presently,  one  by  one,  awaken  to  a  new  sense.  As  they  receive 
they  cannot  choose  but  to  discover  that  these  ladies  have  given  up 


'J)jii^K*i,n( 


The   Sewing  Class,  Girl's  Institute. 


their  luxurious  homes  and  the  life  of  ease  in  order  to  work  among- 
them.  They  also  discover  that  these  young  gentlemen  who  "  run  " 
the  clubs,  teach  the  boys  gymnastics,  boxing,  drawing,  carving,  and 
the  rest,  give  up  for  this  all  their  evenings— the  flower  of  the  day 


270  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

in  the  tlower  of  life.  What  for  ?  "What  do  they  get  for  it  ?  Xot  in 
this  parish  only,  but  in  every  parish  the  same  kind  of  thing  g-oes 
on  and  spreads  daily.  This — observe — is  the  last  step  hut  one  of 
charity.  For  the  progress  of  charity  is  as  follows  :  First,  there  is 
the  pitiful  dole  to  the  beggar ;  then  the  bequest  to  monk  and 
monaster}' ;  then  the  founding  of  the  almshouse  and  the  parish 
charity  ;  then  the  Easter  and  the  Christmas  offerings  ;  then  the  gift 
to  the  almoner  ;  then  the  cheque  to  a  society ;  next — latest  and  best 
— personal  service  among  the  poor.  This  is  both  flower  and  fruit 
of  charity.  One  thing  only  remains.  And  before  long  this  thing 
also  shall  come  to  pass  as  well. 

Those  who  live  in  the  dens  and  witness  these  things  done  daily 
must  be  stocks  and  stones  if  they  were  not  moved  by  them.  They 
are  not  stocks  and  stones  ;  they  are  actually,  though  slowl}^  moved 
by  them  ;  the  old  hatred  of  the  Church — you  may  find  it  expressed 
in  the  workingman's  papers  of  fifty  years  ago — is  djdng  out  rap- 
idly in  our  great  towns  ;  the  brawling  is  better  ;  even  the  drinking 
is  diminishing.  And  there  is  another — perhaps  an  unexpected — re- 
sult. Xot  only  are  the  poor  turning  to  the  Church  which  befriends 
them,  the  Church  which  they  used  to  deride,  but  the  clergy  are 
turning  to  the  poor;  there  are  many  for  whom  the  condition  of  the 
people  is  above  all  other  earthly  considerations.  If  that  great 
conflict — long  predicted — of  capital  and  labor  ever  takes  place,  it 
is  safe  to  prophecy  that  the  Church  will  not  desert  the  poor. 

Apai"t  from  the  Church  what  machinery  is  at  work  ?  First,  be- 
cause there  are  so  many  Catholics  in  the  place,  one  must  think  of 
them.  It  is,  however,  difficult  to  ascertain  the  Catholic  agencies  at 
work  among  these  people.  The  people  are  told  that  they  must  go 
to  mass  ;  Roman  Catholic  sisters  give  dinners  to  children  ;  there  is 
tlie  Roman  League  of  the  Cross — a  temperance  association  ;  I  think 
that  the  Catholics  are  in  great  measure  left  to  the  charities  of  the 
Anglicans,  so  long  as  these  do  not  try  to  convert  the  Romans. 

The  Salvation  Army  people  attempt  nothing — absolutely  noth- 
ing in  this  parish.     There  are  at  present  neither  Baptist,  nor  Wes- 


"«F 


.7  -    4  ' 


LIGHTERMEN    AFTER    DINNER    PUTTING    OFF    TO    WORK    FROM    RATCLIFF    STAIRS. 


A  RIVERSIDE  PARISH  273 

leyan,  nor  Independent  chapels  in  the  place.  A  few  years  ago,  on 
the  appearance  of  the  book  called  the  "  Bitter  Cry  of  Outcast  Lon- 
don," an  attempt  was  made  by  the  last-named  body  ;  they  found  an 
old  chapel  belonging-  to  the  Congregationalists,  with  an  endowment 
of  £80  a  year,  which  they  turned  into  a  mission  hall,  and  carried 
on  with  spirit,  for  two  years  mission  work  in  the  place  ;  they  soon 
obtained  large  funds,  which  they  seem  to  have  lavished  with  more 
zeal  than  discretion.  Presently  their  money  was  all  gone  and  they 
could  get  no  more  ;  then  the  chapel  was  turned  into  a  night-shelter. 
Next  it  was  burned  to  the  ground.  It  is  now  rebuilt  and  is  again  a 
night-shelter.  There  is,  however,  an  historic  monument  in  the  par- 
ish with  which  remains  a  survival  of  former  activitj^  It  is  a  Quaker 
meeting-house  which  dates  back  to  1667.  It  stands  within  its  walls, 
quiet  and  decorous  ;  there  are  the  chapel,  the  ante-room,  and  the 
burial-ground.  The  congregation  still-  meet,  reduced  to  fifty  ;  they 
still  hold  their  Sunday-school ;  and  not  far  off  one  of  the  fraternity 
carries  on  a  Creche  which  takes  care  of  seventy  or  eighty  babies, 
and  is  blessed  every  day  by  as  many  mothers. 

Considering  all  these  agencies — how  they  are  at  work  day  after 
day,  never  resting,  never  ceasing,  never  relaxing  their  hold,  always 
compelling  the  people  more  and  more  within  the  circle  of  their  in- 
fluence ;  how  they  incline  the  hearts  of  the  children  to  better  things 
and  show  them  how  to  win  these  better  tilings — one  wonders  that 
the  whole  parish  is  not  already  clad  in  white  robes  and  sitting  with 
harp  and  crown.  On  the  other  hand,  walking  down  London  Street, 
Batcliff,  looking  at  the  foul  houses,  hearing  the  foul  language,  see- 
ing the  poor  women  with  black  eyes,  watching  the  multitudinous 
children  in  the  mud  ;  one  wonders  whether  even  these  agencies  are 
enough  to  stem  the  tide  and  to  prevent  this  mass  of  people  from 
falling  lower  and  lower  still  into  the  hell  of  savagery.  This  parish 
is  one  of  the  poorest  in  London  ;  it  is  one  of  the  least  known  ;  it  is 
one  of  the  least  visited.  Explorers  of  slums  seldom  come  here  ;  it 
is  not  fashionably  miserable.     Yet  all  these  fine  things  are  done 

here,  and  as  in  this  parish  so  in  every  other.     It  is  continually  stated 
18 


274  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

as  a  mere  commonplace — one  may  see  the  thing  advanced  every- 
where, in  "  thoug-htf  ul  "  papers,  in  leading-  articles — that  the  Church 
of  Kome  alone  can  produce  its  self-sacrificing  martyrs,  its  lives  of 
pure  devotion.  Then  what  of  these  parish-workers  of  the  Church 
of  England  1  What  of  that  young  physician  who  worked  himself 
to  death  for  the  children  ?  AYliat  of  the  young  men — not  one  here 
and  there — but  in  dozens — who  give  up  all  that  3'oung  men  mostly 
love  for  the  sake  of  laborious  nights  among  rough  and  rude  lads  ? 
What  of  the  gentlewomen  who  pass  long  years — give  up  their 
youth,  their  beaut}^  and  their  strength^among  girls  and  women 
whose  language  is  at  first  like  a  blow  to  them  ?  What  of  the  clergj^ 
themselves,  alwaj^s,  all  day  long,  living  in  the  midst  of  the  very 
poor — hardly  paid,  always  giving  out  of  their  poverty,  forgotten  in 
their  obscurit}*,  far  from  any  chance  of  promotion,  too  hard- worked 
to  read  or  study,  dropped  out  of  all  the  old  scholarly  circles  ?  Nay, 
my  brothers,  we  cannot  allow  to  the  Church  of  Rome  all  the  unself- 
ish men  and  women.  Father  Damien  is  one  of  us  as  well.  I  have 
met  him — I  know  him  by  sight — he  lives,  and  has  long  lived,  in 
Riverside  London. 


A  SCHOOL   FOE  STEEET  AEABS 
By  EDMUND  R.  SPEAEMAN, 

AUTHOR  OP  ARTICLES  AND  REPORTS  ON  EDUCATION  IN  FRANCE 

The  Municipal  Council  of  Pakis  and  the  '•  Morally  Abandoned" — Street 
Children  without  Care— Plans  of  M.  Brueyre — Dr.  Thulie — D'Alem- 
BERT  School  for  Paris  Street  Boys— Montevrain — Occupations  op  the 
Boys  —  Printing,  the  Turning-shop,  Cabinet-making  —  "Value  of  the 
Boys'  Work  —  The  Daily  Routine  —  The  Drill  —  The  Veterans  — The 
School  Table — Health  Statistics— Future  of  the  Pupils. 

STEEET  Arabs  are  often  picturesque  to  look  at,  especially  ou 
tlie  canvases  of  tlie  fair  bride  of  an  African  explorer.  They 
are  also  amusing  in  their  "  cheek "  and  their  "  lingo  "  espe- 
cially in  the  pages  of  Dickens.  But  they  are  also  highly  dangerous 
to  the  public  peace  if  allowed  to  "  run  to  seed,"  the  seed  being  often 
robbery,  outrage,  and  even  murder.  The  street  Arab  battalions  of 
London  during  recent  years  have  kept  whole  districts  under  a 
reign  of  terror,  and  one  notorious  murder  in  Marylebone,  connected 
with  the  wild  excesses  of  the  London  urchins,  a  few  years  ago  set 
all  tongues  to  wagging  over  the  necessity  of  some  sweejjing  reform. 
The  street  Arab  grows  into  the  "  larrikin "  and  "  hoodlum,"  the 
"  rough  "  and  "  plug  ugly,"  and  becomes  less  picturesque  and  more 
obnoxious. 

While  London  has  been  talking,  Paris  has  been  acting.  The 
philosophic  guardians  of  the  French  capital  have,  during  the  last 
decade,  taken  the  street  Arab  in  hand  to  some  purpose,  and  have 
dealt  with  him  in  a  manner  to  serve  as  a  model  to  the  other  great 
capitals  of  the  world,  where  the  same  questions  are  sure  to  jjresent 
themselves  for  solution. 


276  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

The  Municipal  Council  of  Paris  lias  invented  a  new  theory  in 
legislation  regarding-  the  young-.  The  street  Arab  is,  according-  to 
them,  to  be  known  henceforth  in  jurisprudence  as  the  "  morally 
abandoned."  Other  cities  and  other  lands  have  taken  to  task  the 
juvenile  convicted  vagrant  and  criminal,  and  devised  schemes  for 
their  reclamation  ;  but  the  Parisian  authorities  apjDly  the  axiom 
that  the  "  ounce  of  prevention  is  worth  more  than  a  pound  of  cure," 
and  take  the  children  before  they  have  become  either  misdemean- 
ants or  criminals.  The  juvenile  criminal  and  juvenile  vagabond,  in 
nine  cases  out  of  ten,  is  the  child  of  certain  classes  of  parents  who 
are  unfit  to  have  the  care  of  children.  Such  are  the  older  criminals 
themselves,  the  notoriously  vicious,  and  the  notoriously  debauched 
or  dissipated.  By  a  new  French  law  (July  24,  1889),  all  this  special 
class  of  parents  are  denied  all  rights  over  their  children.  This  law 
is  the  result  of  the  Paris  lever,  which,  in  this  as  in  so  many  other 
matters,  raised  the  whole  of  France. 

Previous  to  1889  there  was  no  legal  authority  in  France  to  hand 
over  non-convicted  children  above  twelve  years  of  age  to  the  pub- 
lic charge.  Moreover  there  was  no  authority  to  take  into  state 
charge  any  children  below  twelve  not  convicted  of  otfence  who  had 
not  been  cast  adrift  by  their  parents,  although  the  said  parents 
might  be  worse  than  none.  This  great  lack  in  the  French  legisla- 
lation  especially  struck  the  attention  of  M.  Loys  Brueyre,  who,  in 
his  capacity  as  head  of  the  children's  bureau  in  the  ofiice  of  poor 
relief  in  the  Department  of  the  Seine,  had  peculiar  facilities  for 
knowing  the  shortcomings  of  the  system.  M.  Brueyre  felt  that  a 
large  number  of  children  were  wandering  the  streets  under  no 
proper  parental  care,  or,  worse  still,  highly  improper  care,  who 
would  make  better  citizens  than  those  already  in  charge  under  the 
orphan,  foundling,  and  common  laws.  At  present  these  children  _ 
were  plunging  into  certain  careers  of  ignorance,  vice,  and  crime. 

There  is  nothing  like  "  teaching  by  example,"  and,  before  mov- 
ing the  unwieldy  and  stolid  fabric  of  national  legislation,  the  au-j 
thorities  of  the  capital  were  first  apjDealed  to,  and  asked  to  put  the 


A  SCHOOL  FOE  STREET  ARABS  277 

idea  into  practice,  showing-  the  practicability  of  reclaiming-  these 
juvenile  vagabonds,  then  get  the  country  to  adopt  it,  after  it  saw 
"  how  the  thing-  worked."  M.  Brueyre  found  an  able  backer  in  the 
work  in  M.  Michel  Moring-,  director  of  the  department  of  the  Paris 
poor  relief,  who  induced  the  Council  of  the  Seine  to  take  up  the 
matter.  The  Council  consists  of  the  well-known  Municipal  Council 
of  Paris,  with  the  deputies  from  the  hanlieue  or  communes  in  the 
suburbs  outside  the  fortifications.  All  matters  relating  to  the 
police  and  poor  relief  are  treated  as  departmental  affairs.  The  Seine 
Council  debated  several  schemes,  siich  as  the  establishment  of  a  de- 
partmental orphan  asylum,  and  the  care  of  all  children  where  the 
mother  was  "  seule  et  miserable'''  or  where  the  father  was  "  veiif  oxi 
ahcmdonne  par  sa  femmey  All  these  propositions  being  set  aside 
as  impracticable,  the  Council  finally  came  around  to  M.  Brueyre's 
idea.  This  idea  was  first  developed  before  a  special  committee  of 
the  Council,  consisting-  of  M.  Moring-,  Dr.  Thulie  (ex-president  of 
the  Council  and  also  of  the  Anthropological  Society),  and  M.  Charles 
Lafont  (one  of  the  representatives  for  Paris  in  the  Chamber  of 
Deputies).  In  December,  1879,  this  commission  reported  most  favor- 
ably, and,  although  the  premature  death  of  M.  Moring,  in  May, 
1880,  deprived  the  scheme  of  its  ablest  supporter,  a  g-ood  substitute 
was  found  in  M.  Moring's  successor,  M.  Charles  Quentin,  who  gave 
the  new  proteges  that  great  requisite  in  successful  movements  of 
reform  and  legislation — a  name.  M.  Quentin  dubbed  the  children 
proposed  to  be  taken  in  state  keeping-  the  "  morally  abandoned,"  a 
most  happy  appellation. 

To  Dr.  Thulie  we  owe  the  careful  fostering  of  the  idea  in  the 
channels  of  legislation.  His  painstaking-  reports  on  the  progress 
of  the  matter  have  been  summarized  in  his  elaborate  work  on  the 
Paris  foundlings,*  a  perfect  triumph  of  typography  achieved  by 
the  children  for  whom  the  author  did  so  much  to  give  an  opportu- 
nity to  gain  their  present  position.  From  the  first  all  the  foster- 
parents  of  the  new  scheme  were  active  in  their  several  directions. 
*  Enfants  Assistes  de  la  Seine.     Paris,  1887. 


278  THE  POOR  IN  GEE  AT   CITIES 

M.  Quentin,  as  head  of  the  Paris  branch  of  that  curious  comiDOund 
of  public  and  private  charity,  the  French  poor  relief,  used  every 
available  occasion  to  give  facilities  for  launching-  the  venture. 
Among  other  opportunities  he  was  enabled  to  purchase,  for  forty 
thousand  francs,  a  beautifully  located  farm  in  the  Department  of  the 
Seine-et-Marne,  for  the  installation  of  some  hospitalary  or  hygienic 
establishment.  M.  Quentin  induced  the  Council  to  devote  this  pur- 
chase to  the  use  of  one  of  the  new  schools.  It  is  now  the  location 
I  am  about  to  describe.  Meanwhile  M.  Lafont  had  interested  his 
powerful  fellow-legislator,  the  distinguished  M.  Theophile  Roussel 
(then  a  fellow-deputy,  but  since  elected  a  senator),  who  has  divided 
his  life  between  chemistr}^  for  adults  and  philanthropy  for  juveniles, 
to  broach  the  legal  reform.  M.  Roussel  (who  is  the  author  of  the 
standard  law  for  the  protection  of  nursing  children,  known  as  the 
Eoussel  Act)  formulated  still  another  important  law  for  child  pro- 
tection, the  one  which  became  at  length  enacted  in  1889.  Dr.  Thulie 
collected  all  the  accumulated  wisdom  of  past  experience  on  the  sub- 
ject, including  the  advice  of  the  prison  reform  societies,  and  espe- 
cially the  noble  Pastor  Eobin,  the  Protestant  philanthropist  of  Belle- 
ville, and  of  M.  Charles  Lucas,  of  the  Institute,  the  accomplished 
architect  and  resolute  advocate  for  the  abolition  of  death  penalties, 
and  of  other  prison  reforms.  Most  important  of  all  was  the  mission 
of  M.  Brueyre  himself,  who  happened  to  be  blessed  with  a  store  of 
rich  friends  and  the  knack  of  interesting  them  in  helping  forward 
good  works.  Funds  were  the  chief  requisite  ;  for  the  Council  could 
not  or  would  not  vote  much  money  for  the  venture,  as  it  hardly  had 
the  power.  The  donations  obtained  by  M.  Brueyre  were  mostly  from 
the  kings  of  the  haute  finance,  including  several  of  the  Eothschilds. 
Some  of  these  donations  were  for  the  service  generally,  and  some 
for  particular  undertakings.  Several  schools  were  thus  inau- 
gurated. A  school  of  horticulture  at  Yillepreux,  not  far  from  Ver- 
sailles, was  one  of  the  first  ventures.  This  was  at  first  a  great  sus- 
cess,  being  especially  under  the  benevolent  eye  of  M.  Pioussel 
himself.     The  Minister   of  Agriculture  gave  an  annual  donation, 


A  SCHOOL  FOR  STREET  ARABS 


279 


and  two  scliolarsliips  at  the  Barres  School  of  Forestry,  near  Mon- 
targis,  were  also  created  for  the  benefit  of  the  Villepreux  scholars. 
This  last  is  a  great  honor,  for  in  Loiret  the  picked  guardians  of  the 
national  forests  are  trained.  Yillepreux  has  languished  of  late, 
from  various  causes,  but  may  yet  recover  its  early  vigor.  Another 
school  has  been  placed  at  Alengon,  principally  of  typography,  the 
young  printers  being  trained  and  their  labor  used  by  a  local  printer. 
To  this  school  a  shoemaking  department  has  been  added.  Still 
another  school  for  girls,  of  weaving  and  housekeeping,  was  started 


The   D'Alembert  School   Buildings  at  Montevrain. 

at  Yseure,  a  little  commune  in  central  France,  but  the  pupils  were 
so  few  that  it  was  soon  closed.  The  most  imi3ortant  of  all  the  vent- 
ures, however,  was  the  school  of  cabinet-making,  with  a  minor 
printing  annex,  which,  in  1881,  was,  as  before  mentioned,  author- 
ized by  the  MuniciiDal  Council  to  be  placed  at  Montevrain  in  the 
Seine-et-Marne.  In  honor  of  the  co-founder  of  the  Encyclopiiedia, 
the  Municipal  Council  (which  holds  as  gospel  that  all  good  dates 
from  the  Revolution,  and  that,  the  Eevolution  being  the  sum  of  all 
wisdom,  the  EncyclopBedia  was  its  prophet)  named  the  new  venture 
the  D'Alembert  School.*     The  immediate  inauguration  of  the  vent- 


*  Some  of  the  more  orthodox  revolutionists  insist  on  calling  it  the  Alembert 
School,  considering  the  aristocratic  prefix  as  rank  heresy. 


280  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

ure  was  provided  for  by  the  mimificeut  gift  of  fifty  thousand  francs 
by  the  Baron  de  Sarter.  This  sum  was  afterward  supplemented  by 
a  like  amount  from  Madame  Dag'nan.  Still  another  of  M.  Brueyre's 
financial  friends,  M.  Edouard  Kohn,  has  given  nine  thousand  five 
hundred  francs  at  various  times  and  Madame  S.  Emden  three 
thousand  francs.  These  various  benefactions  are  duly  acknowledged 
in  letters  of  gold  on  a  tablet  at  the  school  to-day.  This  rich  sup- 
ply of  funds  has  encouraged  the  Municipal  Council  to  devote  an 
increasing  amount  of  attention  to  the  plan,  and  to  allow  consider- 
able subsidies  from  the  general  fund.  The  school  was  opened  in 
August,  1882,  and  has  had  an  increasingly  jirosperous  history.  It 
has  had  the  devotion  of  two  thoroughly  enthusiastic  directors,  M. 
May,  the  first,  being  replaced  a  year  or  two  since  by  M.  Dehesden, 
and  both  of  them  have  evidently  had  their  whole  hearts  in  the  un- 
dertaking. No  more  agreeable  day  can  be  passed  in  the  country 
around  Paris  than  by  a  visit  to  the  D'Alembert  School,  for  anyone 
who  has  the  "  open  sesame  "  of  an  order  from  the  Place  de  Greve. 

Fifteen  miles  to  the  eastward  of  Paris,  on  the  Strasbourg  line, 
is  the  quaint  old  town  of  Lagny,  lying  on  the  south  bank  of  the 
wide  and  sleepy  Marne,  having  a  twin  town  (Thorigny)  on  the  north 
bank.  The  fine  old  bridges  and  the  lazily  moving  canal-boats  give 
a  notion  of  the  easy-going  life  of  other  days.  The  bustle  and  mod- 
ern innovations  of  the  great  steam  highway  are  hidden  from  the 
river-side.  The  crooked  old  streets  of  Lagny  seem  only  made  for 
palfreys  and  cavaliers.  Taking  the  eastern  highway  out  of  the 
town,  we  soon  find  ourselves  climbing  to  high  ground,  whence  we 
look  across  the  river  valley  to  the  flourishing  settlement  of  Damp- 
mart.  The  Marne  valley  is  sweet  to  the  eye  and  refreshing  to  the 
lungs.  No  choicer  spot  could  be  found  to  escape  the  close  confine- 
ment of  town  life  at  such  short  distance  from  Notre  Dame  and  the 
Hotel  de  Ville.  Here,  just  east  of  Lagny,  in  the  sparsely  settled 
commune  of  Montevrain — the  home  of  the  D'Alembert  School — at 
a  spot  where  the  painstaking  road-builders  of  the  "  king's  high- 
way," in  the  days  when  kings  were  rife  in  France,  have  spanned  the 


I 


A 


A  SCHOOL  FOR  STREET  ARABS  281 

sudden  fall  of  a  deep  hollow  by  a  fine  viaduct  of  solid  earth.  Close 
under  the  high  land  to  the  right,  a  steep  slope  is  left  toward  the  still 
deeper  falling  ground  on  the  left.  Thus,  quite  below  the  roadway, 
and  reached  by  a  flight  of  steps  and  inclined  paths,  are  hidden  the 
buildings  of  the  farm.  These  buildings  are  not  now  attached  to 
their  former  domain,  but  will  be  added  most  likely  in  a  short  while 
for  increased  accommodation.  Covering  the  former  fields  toward 
the  roadway,  the  new  structures  and  new  dispositions  of  the  ground 
for  the  school  might  themselves  be  unnoticed  by  a  careless  passer- 
by, being  all  below  the  road-level.  The  ofiicial  who  Avas  inspired 
with  the  notion  of  placing  an  asylum  on  the  spot  was  certainly  en- 
dowed with  the  gift  of  "  happy  thoughts."  The  situation  is  simply 
ideal ;  on  one  side  it  nestles  against  the  hill-side,  protected  from 
the  bleakness  of  a  too  exposed  position,  Avhile  toward  the  river  the 
broad  expanse  of  valley  below  gives  air  and  sunshine  in  abundance. 
Here  the  D'Alembert  School  lodges,  feeds,  and  instructs  a  constant 
succession  of  Parisian  street  Arabs,  giving  them  indeed  an  indus- 
trial paradise. 

The  grounds  are  ample,  and  include  trim-kept  gardens  and 
lawns  to  the  road-side,  wdth  high  shrubberies  hiding  most  of  the 
place.  To  the  rear  the  two  chief  workshops  are  placed  high  up  at 
either  extremity  of  a  long  parade,  this  latter  being  the  exercise 
ground  and  gymnasium.  The  parade  is  the  rear  and  much  the 
larger  of  the  two  open  courts,  the  one  nearer  the  road  being  sep- 
arated by  a  large  building  used  in  three  floors  as  a  dormitory,  the 
upper  story  being  under  a  pitched  roof  with  dormer  Avindows.  To 
the  right  of  this  front  court  is  the  directors'  office  and  residence, 
while  to  the  left  is  the  mess-room  and  storage-house.  At  the  rear 
of  the  great  court  or  parade  is  a  fourth  dormitory  in  a  low  building, 
while  to  its  right  is  the  "  police  cell "  for  bad  boys  (a  structure 
whose  office  is  almost  a  sinecure),  and  to  the  left  is  an  engine-house 
with  a  third  workshop  devoted  to  turning.  The  majority  of  the 
young  workers  are  however  employed  in  the  two  large  brick  joavil- 
ions  which  face  each  other  from  the  high  banks  that  bound  the 


282  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

premises.  In  the  river  end  of  the  left-hand  or  western  i^avilion  is 
installed  the  school  of  printing.  The  lower  story  is  devoted  to  the 
presses,  hand  and  foot,  while  above  is  the  composing-room.  Two 
large  machine  presses  are  placed  in  the  adjoining  end  of  the  rear 
building,  next  to  the  turners,  and  thus,  like  the  latter,  have  the  use 
of  the  power  from  the  engine-room. 

The  printing  occupies  about  thirty  of  the  boys,  and,  like  all 
the  other  departments,  is  under  the  direction  of  a  master  of  the 
craft.  Judging  by  the  results,  the  teaching  printer  must  be  a  born 
genius  at  the  task  :  the  work  turned  out  by  these  young  aspirants  to 
"  the  Art  preservative  of  Art  "  will  bear  comparison  Avith  the  best 
in  any  land,  and  is  of  the  most  varied  and  difficult  description,  in- 
cluding a  great  variety  of  ornamental  and  "  table  work."  Of 
course,  excellent  method  and  ample  materials,  in  the  shaj^e  of  a 
full  assortment  of  type  and  other  necessaries  for  a  great  printing- 
office  go  a  long  way  to  help  the  young  printers.  But  their  tutor 
and  the  aptitude  and  interest  taken  by  the  pupils  are  the  chief 
factors.  On  my  visiting  rounds  I  encountered  one  bright  little 
lad  who  had  only  been  four  days  in  the  school,  yet  had  set  up  a 
short  galley  of  type,  the  proof  of  which  was  better  than  some  I  have 
seen  come  from  old  printers.  Of  course  he  must  have  been  excep- 
tionally clever  and  have  been  carefully  coached  ;  but  all  the  pupils 
seem  to  be  able  to  perform  somewhat  similar  prodigies.  An  older 
pupil,  of  eighteen  months'  standing,  was  setting  up  a  railway  time- 
table, which  not  one  compositor  in  five  hundred  would  dare  to 
undertake  at  first  sight.  The  street  Arab  as  a  printer  is  evidently 
a  success.  No  printing-office  in  the  world  can  show  such  a  galaxy 
of  choice  and  capable  apprentices  as  can  the  D'Alembert  School. 

The  work  in  the  jjress-room  below  is  of  as  great  excellence  as 
the  type-setting  above,  and,  although  there  are  no  "  long  runs  "  (as 
printers  call  taking  a  great  many  impressions  of  the  same  work)  to 
keep  the  two  large  machines  of  the  latest  improved  patterns  in  two 
adjoining  buildings  always  in  motion,  the  young  printers  are  as 
adept    in  this  branch  of  the  trade  as  in  the    others.      Doubtless, 


A  SCHOOL  FOR  STREET  ARABS 


283 


when  the  capabilities  of  this  printiiig'-office  get  fully  into  the  gen- 
eral administrative  craniums,  the  imprint  of  Montevrain  will  be  as 
familiar  in  French  official  documents  as  "Eyre  tt  Spottiswoode, 
Printers  to  the  Queen,"  on  the  English  archives,  or  "  Government 
Printing  Office,  Washington,"  on  those  of  the  United  States.     This 


The   Printing  Office. 


was  not  originally  intended  for  the  chief  jirinting  school  of  the 
service,  that  at  Alen^on  having  printing  as  its  special  feature, 
while  at  Montevrain  only  a  handful  of  boys  were  orig-inally  set  to 
the  composing-stick  and  ink-roller.  The  easy  access  to  Paris,  how- 
ever, soon  occasioned  the  printing  of  the  overseeing  bureau  to  drift 
to  Montevrain,  which  soon  outstripped  the  more  distant  rival,  now 


284  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

still  eng-aged  on  private  work.  At  present  Alen9on  is  becoming 
more  and  more  an  apprenticeship  of  its  alternated  trade,  the  trade 
of  tlie  twin  Saints  Crispin-Crispanus.  The  shoemakers  can  as  well 
be  five  hundred  miles  away  as  fifty. 

The  handiness  of  the  printers  to  Paris  has  not  caused  them  to 
oust  the  other  trade  of  Montevrain,  however,  for  the  very  good  rea- 
son that  all  the  other  young  apprentices  are  engaged  in  manufacture 
which  is  even  more  important  as  an  adjunct  to  the  administrative 
bureau  than  the  printing.  They,  in  fact,  make  a  large  proportion 
of  the  furniture  for  the  hospital  service  of  Paris. 

I  have  mentioned  the  turning-shop  adjoining  the  press-room  on 
one  side,  and  the  engine-room  on  the  other,  in  the  rear  buildings. 
There  are  only  a  few  boys  here,  because  the  ornamental  work  is  a 
minor  factor  in  ordinary  cabinet-making.  The  product  is  never- 
theless worthy  of  comparison  with  the  most  beautiful  furniture  in 
the  matter  of  artistic  finish,  although  simple  as  a  rule.  The  sawing 
is  mostly  done  by  the  master  turner,  a  circular  saw  being  the  last 
thing  intrusted  to  a  workman,  and  especially  dangerous  to  novices, 
however  careful  and  clever.  The  work  in  the  turning-room  is  the 
most  dangerous  on  the  premises,  and  liable  to  take  odd  fingers  and 
thumbs  as  a  toll  on  the  highway  to  knowledge.  The  boys  when  I 
visited  them  seemed  to  have  thus  far  escaped  with  only  a  bandaged 
forefinger  on  the  eldest  of  their  number,  due  doubtless  to  the  mo- 
mentary forgetfulness  of  some  recent  day.  For,  although  not 
trusted  with  the  circular  saw  itself,  all  turning  is  done  at  rapidly 
oscillating  engine-driven  instruments,  and  the  least  carelessness 
occasions  injury  either  to  the  work  or  to  the  workman.  The  3  ouths 
here  were  producing  various  ornamental  designs  with  the  confident 
dexterity  of  a  master  of  the  craft,  although  the  chips,  from  gouges, 
chisels,  grooving-planes,  and  bevelling-knives,  showered  like  driven 
snow  over  the  chucks  and  mandrels  of  the  turning-lathes  and  mould- 
ing-gear, and  the  loud  crunching  of  the  sharp  iron  on  the  hard 
fibre  was  quite  enough  to  frighten  the  nervous  observer. 

Leaving  the  clever  young  turners  to  their  sanctuary  of  sawdust, 


A  SCHOOL   FOR  STREET  ARABS  285 

I  next  visited  the  lower  floor  of  the  opposite  end  of  the  chief  work- 
shops, beyond  the  printing-room.  Here  the  first  elements  of  the 
cabinet-making  trade  were  being  instilled  into  the  heads  of  some 
fifteen  of  the  younger  pupils,  planing  and  polishing  the  large 
smooth  surfaces  of  furniture  being  here  the  special  feature.  The 
great  bulk  of  the  articles  in  hand  seemed  to  be  washstands  and 
tables.  At  the  time  of  my  visit  a  great  stock  of  new  furniture  was 
being  made  for  the  Bichat  Hospital  at  Paris,  large  alterations  and 
renovations  there  requiring  a  new  supply.  The  superintendent  at 
the  polishing-up  workshop  seemed  to  have  a  more  mischievous 
crew  than  any  other :  probably  the  less  steady  attention  required 
for  the  work  allows  animal  spirits  more  scope.  Hence  the  rebukes 
of  the  schoolmaster  were  rife  here— the  only  specimens  I  noticed 
on  my  visit. 

On  the  floor  above,  the  work  was  chiefly  fitting  and  finishing, 
putting  on  ornaments,  locks  to  drawers  and  doors,  etc.,  the  fire  and 
glue-pot  being  ever  at  hand.  Here  the  work  was  of  special  nicety, 
and  the  ingenuity  shown  by  the  young  workmen  in  mortising,  pin- 
ning, clamping,  etc.,  being  very  wonderful.  In  a  room  of  twenty 
boys,  of  course,  a  single  overseer  has  to  trust  almost  entirely  to 
each  one's  talent  and  faithfulness  of  detail.  If  the  work  were 
solely  matter  of  practice,  to  be  thrown  aside  when  done,  the  after- 
examination  and  correction  of  faults  would  be  all  necessary.  As  a 
fact,  the  work  is  all  disposed  of  for  important  use,  and  will  not 
only  bear  comparison  with  the  furniture  sold  in  the  fashionable 
salesroom,  but  is  superior  to  most  modern  work,  which  is  generally 
made  to  sell  and  not  to  use. 

The  truth  is,  the  cabinet-making  trade  is  one  which  has  suf- 
fered more  than  any  other  by  the  modern  mania  for  hurry-skurry, 
shoddy  manufacture,  and  mere  show  in  place  of  substance.  The 
so-called  "  craze  "  for  old  furniture,  rife  during  the  last  thirty  or 
forty  years,  has  this  solid  basis  of  reason  that  the  furniture  of  our 
ancestors  is  an  altogether  different  iDroduct,  outside  all  considera- 
tions  of  fashion,   from  that   of    the   modern  cabinet-maker,   who 


286  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

knows  not  his  trade,  but  is  a  mere  particle  in  a  great  macliine  of 
cheap  and  slovenly  production.  This  school  at  Montevrain  was 
partly  started  as  a  protest  ag-ainst  this  bad  tendency  in  the  cabinet 
trade,  by  one  of  the  leading-  and  most  enlightened  cabinet  firms  of 
Paris,  that  of  Damon-Kreiger,  in  Saint-Antoine.  The  Municipal 
Council  would  scarcely  have  been  able  to  launch  their  novel  scheme 
without  the  assistance  of  this  far-sighted  house.  The  cabinet-mak- 
ing of  Paris  is  famous  the  world  over,  but,  like  that  elsewhere,  has 
been  going  rapidly  to  the  bad.  A  genuine  cabinet-maker,  master 
of  his  trade,  below  middle  age,  has  almost  ceased  to  exist  in  the 
French  capital.  The  firm  of  Damon-Kreiger  keenly  felt  this  lack. 
The  extreme  division  of  labor  and  a  machine-like  production  is 
profitable  enough  to  master  and  men,  if  fashions  never  changed. 
But  fashions  do  change,  and  fashions  in  furniture  as  well.  It 
was  found  that  the  machine  w^orkman  of  divided  labor  was  inca- 
pable of  producing  g-ood  work  in  another  direction,  when  his  own 
special  feature  became  obsolete  and  a  new  one  was  wanted.  It 
is  only  the  master  of  all  branches  of  the  art  who  can  thus  easily 
shift  about.  The  process  of  extreme  division  of  labor  has  been 
built  up  in  all  trades  by  a  sort  of  process  of  living  on  brain  capital. 
The  old  race  of  workmen,  with  their  all-round  capacity,  could 
easily  develop  special  features  in  various  directions.  But  grad- 
ually this  breeds  but  mere  human  machines.  When  these  human 
machines  are  asked  to  work  another  way  they  cannot  respond. 
The  streets  of  our  great  capitals  are  swarming  with  helpless,  worth- 
less, beggared  workmen,  thrown  out  of  employment  by  mere  vio- 
lent shifts  of  fashion  and  their  own  inability  to  adapt  themselves 
to  altered  conditions.  With  the  streets  of  Paris  full  of  unemployed 
workmen,  such  a  firm  as  these  Saint-Antoine  cabinet-makers  cried 
in  vain  for  competent  artisans.  They  evidently  had  some  of  the 
old-fashioned  love  for  faithful  apprenticeshiii.  But  the  workman 
no  longer  apprentices  his  son,  the  son  no  longer  submits  to  ap- 
prenticeshii).  The  father  wants  his  son  to  support  himself  from 
the  day  he  sets  to  work ;  the  son  thinks  he  has  the  right  to  assume 


A  SCHOOL  FOR  STREET  ARABS  287 

an  independent  position  thenceforth.  But  here  was  a  chance  for  the 
firm  of  Saint- Antoine.  The  city  of  Paris  had  a  stock  of  boys, 
intelligent,  and  yet  amenable  to  discipline,  and  only  too  glad 
to  take  sufficient  time  to  learn  a  thorough  trade.  In  fact,  the 
longer  the  better  ;  for  it  meant  good  living  and  a  pleasant  home 
meanwhile  —  things  hitherto  unknown  —  and  therefore  to  be  all 
the  more  appreciated.  So  the  firm  of  Damon-Kreiger  not  only 
furnished  a  picked  band  of  working  instructors  in  the  trade  and 
abundant  material  for  the  work,  but  also  agreed  to  take  the  work 
even  at  a  cost  far  above  that  in  their  own  workshops  ;  for  it  was 
stipulated  by  the  city  that  the  boys  must  be  paid  from  the  very 
start  for  such  work  as  they  did.  In  this  way  a  valuable  beginning 
was  obtained.*  In  course  of  years,  when  a  thoroughly  efficient 
staff  of  apprentices  was  generated,  including  a  good  i^roportion  of 
boys  of  two  and  three  years'  training,  joractically  capable  journey- 
men, the  products,  of  course,  became  very  much  more  valuable, 
and  the  school  was  able  to  be  almost  self-supporting. 

The  solid  character  of  the  product  of  the  school  to-day  I  well 
appreciated  when  I  crossed  the  extensive  exercise  yard  and 
mounted  the  high  bank  to  the  opposite  workshop.  Here  but  a 
small  number  of  boys  are  employed,  the  chief  portion  of  the  pavil- 
ion, the  larger  of  the  two,  and  having  three  stories,  being  devoted  to 
storage  of  the  work  and  of  specimens  of  special  results  or  trophies 
of  industry.  Some  of  these  were  exhibited  at  the  great  exhil)ition 
of  1889,  and  included  most  beautiful  examples  of  not  only  plain  but 
ornamental  work,  in  ebony  and  rosewood.     There  was  a  state  bed 

*For  tlie  clew  to  this  interesting  episode  in  the  ecarly  history  of  the  D'Alembert 
School,  I  am  indebted  to  the  report  of  a  converscation  between  an  intelligent  fore- 
man in  the  Damon-Kreiger  employ  (M.  Lepine)  and  ]M.  Francisqne  Sarcey  (the 
famous  dramatic  critic),  in  the  Oagne-Petit  newspaper.  This  daily  journalistic 
refulgence  of  all  the  talents  (which  was  really  "  too  good  to  last,"  and  like  "the 
good,  died  young  ")  printed,  at  the  end  of  April,  1885  (and  near  the  close  of  its  own 
career),  an  account  of  the  visit  of  M.  Sarcey  with  the  publisher  and  certain  officials 
to  Montevrain.  The  articles  (like  most  French  journalism)  are  rather  erroneous  if 
not  erratic,  but,  as  their  source  would  indicate,  naturally  most  entertaining. 


288 


THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 


whicli  Louis  Quinze  himself  miglit  have  envied,  while  some  of  the 
inlaj'iug's  of  tables  and  sideboards  were  simply  exquisite.  To  the 
professional  eye,  however,  the  triumph  of  all  the  exhibits  was  a 
large  hard- wood  cylinder,  perfect  in  its  smooth  circle,  the  most  dif- 
ficult of  all  turninsT  processes.     It  is  far  more  important  that  the 


"SV^ 


The  Carpenter  Shop. 

young-  workmen  are  apt  in  the  iDlain,  honest  work  they  are  chiefly 
engaged  in. 

In  this  pavilion  the  workers  are  principally  emi^loyed  in  the 
carpentry  and  joinery  features  of  the  cabinet  trade.  Doors  and 
sashes  and  all  the  specialties  of  the  joiner  are  here  maniiDulated, 
and  the  young  workmen  show  that  at  a  pinch  they  could  build  a 
house  as  well  as  furnish  it. 

The  upper  floor  of  this  right-hand  (or  eastern)  X)avilion  is  de- 


A  SCHOOL  FOR  STREET  ARABS  289 

voted  to  two  scliool-rooms,  one  for  g-eneral  study,  and  the  other  for 
drawing-  and  design.  Each  room  is  fitted  with  all  the  accessories 
of  not  only  elementary  but  higher  instruction.  Maps  and  charts 
adorn  the  walls,  while  implements  of  exam^ole  and  experiment  in 
the  rudiments  of  the  sciences  are  visible  in  the  cabinets.  The 
benches  look  neat,  and  little  injured  by  the  proverbial  jack-knives 
of  the  village  urchin  in  the  country  school-rooms.  The  drawing- 
school  is,  of  course,  a  most  important  feature,  and  the  scholars  can 
not  only  show  their  ingenuity  on  the  blackboard  and  paper  sheets, 
but  can  carry  out  the  ideas  here  developed  by  speedy  application 
in  the  workshop.  The  trade  of  the  cabinet-maker  is  specially 
fertile  in  opportunities  for  the  ingenious  designer,  while  even  the 
printers,  in  their  artistic  ornamental  work,  have  some  field  also  for 
application  of  the  instruction. 

The  hours  of  schooling  are  somewhat  peculiar,  but  perhaps  best 
adapted  to  the  circumstances.  The  young  learners  take  their  les- 
sons just  after  rising  from,  and  just  before  going  to,  their  beds. 
This  gives  a  solid  day  in  the  more  active  employment.  The  follow- 
ing is  the  daily  routine  at  Montevrain  : 

5  A.M.  Rising,  morning  toilet,  and  arrangement  of  dormitories. 

5.45  A.M.  School. 

7  A.M.  Soup. 

7.30  A.M.  Workshop. 

11  A.M.  Gymnastics. 

12  M.  Luncheon. 
2  P.M.  Workshop. 
6.30  P.M.  Dinner. 
7  P.M.  School. 
8.30  P.M.  Bed. 

On  four  days  in  the  week  there  is  one  extra  hour  of  school  (8.30 
to  9.30),  for  the  pupils  in  music  and  drawing,  two  evenings  for  each. 
The  regular  schoolmaster  is  replaced  in  these  lessons  by  special  in- 
structors. 

The  gymnastics  are  a  great  pride  of  the  school,  the  grand  parade 
19 


290  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

between  the  two  banks  bounded  by  tlie  workshops  offering-  excep- 
tional facilities  for  various  manoeuvres.  Besides  the  cross-bars, 
swings,  etc.,  such  as  are  characteristic  of  every  French  barrack  yard, 
the  boj^s  here  make  a  special  feature  of  fireman's  exercise ;  they 
have  not  onl}'  a  fire-engine,  but  an  experienced  instructor  from  the 
corps  of  scqyeurs-pompiers  ;  for  all  the  French  firemen  are  either  sol- 
diers in  the  service  of  the  state  or  organized  as  local  military  bat- 
talions. The  school  has  also  had  the  advantage  of  a  special  in- 
structor from  the  famous  militar}^  gymnastic  school  at  Joinville-le- 
Pont,  just  east  of  Paris.  From  these  advantages  they  have  been 
enabled  to  compete  with  marked  success  in  the  athletic  competi- 
tions so  rife  in  France  of  recent  years,  the  mania  for  athletics  being 
the  feature  of  the  age.  The  D'Alembert  School  boasts  a  great  col- 
lection of  Avreaths,  medals,  and  other  trophies,  from  gymnastic  and 
fire  exercise  competitions,  even  as  far  away  as  the  historic  old  town 
of  Provins,  in  Champagne,  whence  the  D'Alembert  School  carried 
away  in  triumph  a  pretty  little  statuette  of  Joseph  Viola,  the  Avig- 
non boy  hero  of  the  Revolution  (killed  by  the  Koyalist  insurgents 
of  '93  while  cutting  the  cables  on  the  Rhone),  ofi^ered  by  President 
Carnot  himself.  All  these  prizes  are  displayed  in  great  state  in  the 
directors'  office.  Perhaps  some  of  the  snobbish  spirits  (found  even 
among  school-boys)  of  more  fashionable  establishments  may  feel 
shocked  at  seeing  the  street  Arabs  of  Paris  prove  themselves  best 
in  the  tug  of  war,  but  the  D'Alembert  boys  never  allow  their  illus- 
trious name  to  be  backward  in  the  race,  and  the  supercilious  critics 
(if  any  such  exist)  may  be  reminded  that  the  great  D'Alembert  him- 
self, not  a  physical,  but  an  intellectual,  giant,  was  not  only  a  Paris 
street  Arab,  but  a  Parisian  foundling.* 

*  As  D'Alembert  is  the  most  illustrious  name  on  tlie  roll  of  the  juvenile  outcasts 
of  Paris,  a  few  recently  disclosed  facts  regarding  his  earliest  experiences  iu  life  will 
be  interesting.  D'Alembert  was  the  product  of  one  of  the  many  amours  of  Cardinal 
de  Tencin's  erratic  sister,  the  famous  authoress  of  the  Princessede  Cleves^  escaped  nun, 
and  Parisian  leader  of  literary  fashion.  D'Alembert's  father  was  the  Chevalier  Des- 
touches,  another  illustrious  literary  connection,  the  chevalier  being  of  the  famih'  of 
Philippe  Destouches,  the  poet.     Several  biographical  errors  being  generally  repeated 


A  SCHOOL  FOE  STREET  ARABS  291 

As  every  able-bodied  Frenchman  is  a  soldier,  of  course  military 

exercise  is  a  portion  of  the  athletic  instruction — a  full  supply  of  guns 

regardiug  D'Alembert's  birth,  M.  Leon  Lallemand  produced  the  following  authenti- 
cated facts  on  June  8,  1885,  in  an  address  before  the  Academy  of  Sciences,  and  has 
included  them  in  his  excellent  Histoire  des  Enfants  abando lines: 

"  In  the  Biographie  Universelle  of  Michaud  (new  edition,  tome  i.,  page  385)  will 
be  found  the  following  information  concerning  the  origin  of  D'Alerabert : 

"  '  Alembert  (Jean  le  Rond  d'),  born  at  Paris,  November  16,  1717,  was  exposed  on 
the  steps  of  St.  Jean  le  Rond — a  church  near  Notre  Dame,  now  desti'oj'ed.  The  ex- 
istence of  this  child  appeared  so  frail  that  the  Commissaire  of  Police  who  received  it, 
instead  of  sending  it  to  the  Enfants  Trouves,  thought  it  necessary  to  give  it  special 
care,  and  with  this  view  confided  it  to  the  wife  of  a  poor  glazier.  Perhaps  he  had 
received  some  instructions  to  act  in  this  manner,  for  although  the  parents  never  made 
themselves  known,  a  few  days  after  its  birth  they  retook  the  abandoned  one  from 
where  they  had  left  it.'  Same  details  in  the  JVouveau  Dictionnaire  de  la  Conversation 
etde  la  Lecture  (2meEd.,  Didot,  1873,  tome  vii.,  p.  104). 

"These  recitals,  extracts  from  the  eulogy  on  D'Alembert  delivered  before  the 
Academy  of  Sciences  by  Condorcet,  contain,  side  by  side  with  the  truth,  some  points 
which  are  not  exact  and  which  it  is  important  to  correct. 

"D'Alembert  was  really  abandoned  on  the  steps  of  the  church  of  St.  Jean  le 
Rond,  and  the  proces-verbal  of  the  exposure,  published  above,  shows  that  special 
precautions  had  been  taken,  for  the  poor  forsaken  ones  were  never  placed  in  wooden 
boxes.  People  were  generally  quite  content  to  deposit  them  on  the  earth  or  on  a 
bench.  The  story  of  the  commissaire  who  did  not  dare  to  have  the  child  taken  to  the 
Maison  de  la  Couche  on  account  of  its  weakness,  is  absolutely  false,  as  is  proved  by 
the  register  of  admissions  for  the  year  1717,  where,  on  folio  513,  under  the  register 
No.  1584,  we  find  : 

"  '  Jean  le  Rond,  newly  born — on  the  proces-verbal  of  Commissaire  Delamere  of 
16th  November,  1717,  given  in  nurse  to  Anne  Freyon,  wife  of  Louis  Lemaire,  living 
at  Cremery. 

"  '  First  month,  5  livres  for  the  first  month,  ended  17  December,  1718. 

"  '  5  January,  1718,  2  livres,  5  francs  to  1  January,  1718,  when  the  child  was  re- 
turned to  its  parents.  This  child  was  given  up  to  Sieur  Molin,  doctor  in  ordinary  to 
the  King,  who  charged  himself  with  it  by  deed  before  Beussel,  notary,  on  January 
1,  1718.' 

"It  is  thus  established,  1st,  That  D'Alembert  was  deposited  at  the  Maison  de 
Couche,  and  placed  at  nurse  in  Picardy  for  six  months.  2d.  That  his  parents,  not  wish- 
ing to  betray  their  incognito,  chose  M.  Jacques  Molin,  known  as  Dumoulin,  one  of 
the  most  celebrated  practitioners  of  his  time." 

It  is  worth  noting  that  D'Alemi)ert  chose  to  remain  a  foundling.  "When  he  had 
become  monarch  of  the  mind  of  France,  greater  than  the  king,  his  erratic  mother 
■wished  to  claim  him.     It  was  too  late.     He  refused  the  offer. 


292 


THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 


V 


of  small  pattern  (not  the  famous  new  Lebel,  but  breech-loaders  of 
another  siDecies)  enable  the  D'Alembert  battalion  to  forestall  the 
time  when  each  youth  will  have  to  serve  his  three  years  in  the 
active  army.     For,  though  the  trades  here  learned  are  for  life,  the 

young-  artisans,  each  and  all, 
have  to  have  their  first  ex- 
perience of  manhood,  the 
same  as  other  citizens,  in 
the  calling  of  war. 

The  guns  are  a  noticeable 
feature  in   the   dormitories, 
standing  in  racks  at  either 
^^.  %f'2E^--.^^^'4|jjr'^:^^'^^/  end  of  each  sleepiug-apart- 

•"^ '^      ^*^  "****  ^'  ment.     In  fact  these  dormi- 

tories have  somewhat  the 
look  of  barrack  life.  There 
are  about  thirty  beds  in  each 
of  the  principal  ones,  each 
bed  with  a  small  locker  at 
its  head,  in  which,  in  mili- 
tary order,  are  found  the 
dress-suits,  brushes,  etc.,  of 
the  youth  appertaining  there- 
to. The  boys  work  ordina- 
rily in  blue  jeans  and  bare- 
headed, but  the  "  Sunday 
suits  "  are  quite  gala  affairs, 
with  spruce  naval  caps  and  gold-lettered  ribbon,  a  handsome  white 
flannel  shirt  with  rolling  collar  and  corded  throat,  a  double-breasted 
blue  tunic  with  brass  buttons  and  ornaments  in  the  lapels,  a  pair 
of  blue  trousers,  and  a  x>air  of  flannel  pantaloons  and  v/hite  gait- 
ers. This  supply  makes  two  full  rig-outs,  for  both  military  and 
gymnastic  exercises,  the  waist  for  the  latter  in  great  galas  being 
adorned  with  dazzling  red  and  sky-blue  sashes,  a  store  of  which  are 


The    Drum   Major. 


A  SCHOOL  FOB  STREET  ARABS 


293 


kept  in  tlie  school  wardrobe.  This  wardrobe  is  the  only  portion 
of  the  premises  where  the  boys  are  not  their  own  servants.  Two 
seamstresses  and  a  wardrobe  mistress  keep  the  whole  of  the  stock 
of  clothes  in  excellent  repair,  and  also  have  charg-e  of  all  spare 
garments,  issuing-  such  as  are  needed.  The  washing-  is  not  done  at 
Montevrain,  but  sent  to  Paris, 
to  the  Hospital  Lariboissiere, 
which,  being-  near  the  Stras- 
bourg station,  can  accommodate 
the  school  in  the  course  of  its 
own  g-reat  labors  without  any 
inconvenience. 

Sunday  is  a  general  holiday 
at  Montevrain.  The  Municipal 
Council,  being-  rampantly  secu- 
lar, there  is  no  chapel  or  chap- 
lain on  the  premises.  As  the 
boys  are  all  given  leave  on  Sun- 
day, those  over  sixteen  can  at- 
tend church  if  so  inclined.  Prob- 
ably few  of  them  thus  spend  the 
Sunday,  boys  not  being  much 
given  to  that  idea  of  their  own 
accord.  Those  under  sixteen 
have  their  Sunday  leave  in 
charge  of  an  attendant.  The 
hours  of  the  leave  are  from 
2  to  7  P.M.  Each  boy  is  given  five  sous  for  pocket-money  on  Sun- 
days, to  lay  out  in  "  cakes  and  ale."  During  the  four  years'  appren- 
ticeship a  certain  sum  is  put  by  to  give  them  at  the  end  of  their 
apprenticeshijj,  as  a  start.  Besides  this,  a  boy  away  from  his  ap- 
prenticeship can  stay  and  work  until  eighteen  years  of  age,  when 
he  departs  for  the  army.  If  he  comes  at  the  minimum  age  of 
twelve  (as  the  majority  do),  this  means  two  years,  from  sixteen  to 


The  Trumpeter. 


294  THE  POOR  IN  ORE  AT  CITIES 

eigliteen.  These  boys  are  called  the  "veterans,"  and  are  paid 
three  francs  a  day,  one  franc  being-  however  charged  for  keep.  The 
"  veterans  "  are  jiaid  each  three  mouths,  but  are  allowed  advances 
of  fifteen  francs  a  month.  They  have  full  liberty  on  Sunday,  to  g-o 
to  Paris  and  return  when  they  please.  These  "  veterans  "  occupy 
a  jjortion  of  the  fourth  dormitory  (the  rest  not  being  used  as  yet), 
and  are  barred  off  from  the  room,  having"  trunks  instead  of  lockers, 
and  altogether  begin  to  blossom  out  a  bit.  As  the  jolly  director 
said,  rattling  on  in  his  description  :  "  Void  la  canne,  le  j^cirahde,  et 
qiielquefois  le  parasol  aussi,''  and  a  merry  twinkle  came  into  his  eye. 
These  "  veterans  "  are  quite  free  to  go  to  any  other  employment, 
with  the  consent  (which  is  never  refused)  of  the  officials  at  Paris, 
as  the  Poor  Relief  Bureau  stands  in  loco  "parerdis  in  every  respect, 
even  to  consent  to  marriag-e,  until  twenty-five  years  of  age,  a 
Frenchman's  legal  majority  ;  but  the  good  living  and  secure  em- 
ployment at  Montevrain  are  better  than  an  uncertainty.  One  of 
them  went  away  with  eight  hundred  francs  and  then  enlisted  to  work 
at  his  trade  in  the  artillery  for  six  years,  where  he  would  g-et  extra 
pay,  and  not  get  out  of  practice  ;  he  has  already  been  promoted. 

M.  Dehesdin  related  an  interesting  tale,  illustrating  the  far- 
reaching  benefits  of  such  institutions  as  the  D'Alembert  School. 
In  Paris,  a  poor  working  painter,  with  five  children,  three  boys  and 
two  girls,  died  suddenly,  and  his  death  was  followed  soon  by  that 
of  his  widow.  The  children  would  have  been  helpless,  being  be- 
yond the  limit  of  twelve  years,  at  which  the  law  for  the  help  of 
abandoned  children  and  orphans  draws  the  line,  had  not  the  boys 
been  allowed  to  come,  all  three,  to  Montevrain,  where  one  became 
a  printer  and  two  became  cabinet-makers.  The  two  girls  had  to 
shift  for  themselves,  but  one  went  to  service,  while  the  other,  the 
eldest,  had  just  obtained  a  place  as  book-keeper  before  the  family 
catastrophe.  In  course  of  time  the  boys  got  their  trades  and  places 
in  Paris,  the  eldest  being  allowed  the  short  one  year's  military  ser- 
vice as  support  of  a  family,  for  a  family  they  have  again  become. 
The  eldest  sister,  having  hired  apartments,  recalled  the  younger 


A  SCHOOL  FOR  STREET  ARABS  295 

from  service  to  set  up  as  the  housekeeper,  and  then  g-athered  the 
three  brothers  tog-ether.  Thus,  by  the  help  of  the  timely  interven- 
tion of  the  D'Alembert  institution,  a  family  was  saved  Avhich  would 
otherwise  have  been  scattered  in  hopeless  misery. 

Such  a  return  to  home  life  must  have  been  a  sweet  variety  for 
these  brothers,  for,  after  all,  good  living-,  beautiful  surroundings, 
and  healthy  employment  as  have  our  street  Arabs  at  Montevrain, 
there  is  an  eternal  barrack  huddling-  and  drill,  which  even  young- 
humanity  must  wish  occasional  relief  from.  Perhaps  it  would  not 
do  to  allow  these  lads  of  untried  propensities  to  live  away  from  an 
inspecting  eye.  '  Still,  it  seems  as  if  tiny  apartments  of  their  own 
might  make  them  more  responsible  and  civilized  citizens,  teaching 
them  self-respect  and  self-dependence.  They  could  do  the  house- 
hold duties  as  now,  although  separately.  At  present  two  boys  each 
day  are  detailed  to  act  as  the  mess  servants  of  the  establishment, 
assisting  the  cook  and  waiting  on  the  tables.  The  boys  cannot  do 
their  own  cooking,  however,  a  woman  cook,  with  the  women  of  the 
wardrobe,  being  the  only  female  element  connected  with  the  school. 
Besides  the  instructing  staff,  there  are  three  attendants  who  have 
charge  of  the  discipline.  One  of  these  is  the  fire  inspector  before 
mentioned,  and  another  is  the  accomplished  gymnast. 

The  diet  of  the  school  is  a  very  formal  affair,  the  bill  of  fare  for  each 
meal  for  a  month  being  printed.  The  morning  meal  consists  of  vari- 
ous kinds  of  soup — herb  soup,  meat  soup,  rice  soup,  onion  soup,  leek 
soup,  julienne  soup,  and  panade  being  scattered  through  the  thirty- 
one  days.  In  like  manner  the  noon  meal  is  varied  with  veal,  hashed 
beef,  mutton,  fresh  pork,  sausages,  black-puddings,  and  beef  in  va- 
rious fashions,  and  all  with  a  variety  of  vegetables.  The  evening 
meal  is  a  sort  of  compromise  between  dinner  and  supper,  being  soup 
and  vegetables — potatoes,  beans,  lentils,  macaroni,  on  part  of  the 
days,  and  on  others  soup  and  meats,  including  roasted  veal.  The 
diet  also  includes  wine  from  the  city's  own  wine-cellar,  and  a  mod- 
erate allowance  of  fruits,  dessert,  etc.,  in  season.  Altogether,  the 
living:  is  not  bad  at  Montevrain. 


290  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

The  beliavior  of  the  boys  at  table,  a  sure  index  of  boarding- 
school  life  (even  in  a  Squeers  academy),  is  remarkably  jjleasant. 
My  first  insight  into  the  routine,  on  my  visit  (as  I  arrived  at  high 
noon),  was  to  see  the  lads  marshalled  on  the  parade  by  their  drill- 
master,  marched  to  the  tables  and  seated  in  the  dining-hall  to  the 
left  of  the  front  court.  They  ate  with  relish  and  satisfaction  as  well 
as  decorum,  and  when,  at  two  o'clock,  I  saw  them  again  summoned 
by  trumpet-call  to  the  parade-ground,  to  march  to  the  two  work- 
shops, a  large  detail  to  the  left  and  a  little  one  to  the  right,  there 
was  a  cheerfulness  and  a  promptitude  which  told,  more  than  words, 
of  good  living  and  happy  existence. 

On  the  diet  above,  the  street  Arabs  thrive  most  wonderfully. 
The  health  of  the  school  is  generally  perfect,  the  doctor's  bill  being 
lower  than  at  almost  any  similar  collection  of  juveniles  gathered 
haphazard  from  anything  but  healthy  surroundings.  There  has  been 
but  one  death  in  the  ten  years  since  the  establishment  of  the  school, 
that  of  a  boy,  in  1889,  from  a  pulmonary  consumption.  A  great 
hygienic  advantage  of  the  establishment  is  the  jiroximity  of  the 
limpid  Marne,  in  the  waters  of  which  the  boys  take  regular  baths 
in  the  summer  months,  nearly  all  of  them  becoming  accomplished 
swimmers.  In  winter  the}'  have  to  content  themselves  with  the 
ample  bath-rooms  of  the  establishment,  where  they  are  given  three 
baths  a  week. 

The  accommodations  of  the  school  could  easily  be  made  quite 
equal  to  three  or  four  hundred  pupils,  and  in  course  of  time  that 
number  may  be  reached,  when  the  idea  gets  generally  acceiated  in 
the  official  brain.  This  will  largely  increase  the  value  of  the  estab- 
lishment, for  the  product  will  increase  in  proportion  to  the  workers, 
while  the  expenses  will  not  rise  in  quite  the  same  j)i'oportiou,  a 
school  of  one  hundred  being  relatively  much  more  costly  than  one 
of  fourfold  the  number.  At  present  the  cost,  though  on  a  liberal 
scale,  is  recouped  to  a  considerable  degree.  In  1889,  for  instance, 
the  credits  to  the  school  actually  exceeded  the  debits  by  over  forty 
thousand  francs,  because  a  large  arrear  of  products  of  former  years 


A   SCHOOL  FOB  STREET  ARABS  297 

were  then  broug-ht  in.  The  actual  product  for  that  year  was  over 
one  hundred  thousand  francs  to  one  hundred  and  sixty  thousand 
francs  of  cost,  not  a  bad  showing-  for  a  great  public  "  charity."  As 
the  number  of  older  and  skilled  pupils  becomes  g-reater,  the  value 
of  the  products  increases.  The  product  of  1890  included  thirty 
thousand  francs  for  printing-  alone,  and  two  or  three  times  as  much 
in  the  cabinet- making  line. 

The  school  is  b}^  far  the  most  successful  of  the  new  "  morally 
abandoned  "  ventures,  and  its  fame  g-ets  already  noised  about.  In 
fact,  parents  and  guardians  have  offered  large  sums  to  be  allowed 
to  have  their  children  g-iven  the  beneficial  phj^sical  and  industrial 
training  at  Montevrain — a  strange  turn  of  fortune's  wheel  when  the 
well-to-do  citizen  envies  for  his  own  cherished  offspring-  the  lot  of 
the  poor  street  Arab !  Of  course  such  offers  are  refused.  The 
Municipal  Council  have  not  yet  summoned  up  courage  to  take  up 
the  mournful  inheritance  of  1848,  and  the  "national  workshops." 
All  these  fond  parents  can  easily  get  their  offspring  admitted  at 
Montevrain  by  simply  becoming-  bad  citizens  themselves  and  throw- 
ing their  children  into  the  streets. 

In  initiating  Montevrain  and  its  mates,  the  French  officials 
made  a  careful  study  of  the  legislation  and  establishments  in  Great 
Britain  and  the  United  States.  The  interesting-  story  of  the  de- 
velopment of  reformatory  and  industrial  schools  is  a  record  of  the 
generous  rivalry  and  emulation  between  different  states  of  western 
Europe  and  their  transatlantic  neighbors,  in  private  and  public 
efforts,  for  over  a  century  past.  The  French  reformers  combined 
the  best  features  of  the  whole  field,  and,  moreover,  made  a  distinct 
advance  on  all.  The  English  law  allowed  the  removal  of  the  chil- 
dren found  in  certain  associations.  The  Massachusetts  law  annuls 
all  parental  rig-ht  over  its  reformatory  proteg-es.  The  New  York 
plan  included  apprenticeship  at  various  trades.  In  Scotland, 
Sheriff  Watson  first  gave  technical  instruction  to  young  vagrants 
in  association.  The  Council  of  the  Seine  decided  to  initiate  a 
wholesale  crusade  for  the  removal  of  all  children  in  obviously  im- 


29S  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

proper  hands,  to  assiime  the  anntilliug-  of  parental  rights,  to  edu- 
cate their  children  with  all  the  advantages  of  those  in  the  care  of 
careful  guardians,  and  to  do  this  by  large  boarding-schools  with  a 
variety  of  teachers.  Until  the  strict  legal  sanction  of  the  legisla- 
ture could  be  had,  the  Council  acted  upon  its  own  assumption. 
There  were  freqiient  cases  of  drunken,  brutal,  and  criminal  joarents 
coming  with  effrontery  and  bluster  to  reclaim  their  offspring,  gen- 
erally to  advance  their  own  selfish  schemes.  All  such  were 
promptly  kicked  out  of  doors.  Of  course  the  courts  were  open  to 
them ;  it  was  well  known  that  they  would  never  dare  to  appeal  to 
the  law,  an  appeal  almost  certainly  liable  to  end  in  a  damaging  ex- 
pose of  their  own  characters,  perha^DS  bringing  them  into  the 
clutches  of  the  very  law  itself,  and  most  certainly  confirming  the 
denial  of  rights  over  their  children,  rights  which  the  children 
themselves  invariably  repudiated.  At  length  the  law  of  1889  settled 
the  matter  for  once  and  all.  The  distinctive  character  of  Monte- 
vrain  and  the  other  new  schools  is  the  "  weeding  "  process.  These 
schools  cannot  be  a  success  without  it.  The  weakness  of  previous 
ambitious  industrial  refuges  is  the  necessity  of  using  only  the  often 
poor  human  material — and  using  all  this  material — which  comes 
for  treatment. 

In  their  Kedhill  enterprise  the  London  Philanthropic  Society 
was  taunted  by  a  Quarterly  reviewer  with  its  little  chance  when  it 
lacked  the  enthusiasm  and  exceptional  care  of  Mr.  Turner,  the 
founder.  The  reform  school  for  western  New  York,  in  Rochester, 
which  imitated  Montevrain  on  a  large  scale  in  1884,  will  find  a  difti- 
cult  task  if  it  hopes  to  bring  all  the  young  outcasts  into  the  neces- 
sary limited  curriculum  of  highly  technical  trades.  No  such  im- 
possibility is  attempted  at  Montevrain.  The  stupid,  incompetent, 
and  refractory  youths  are  carefully  sifted  out  and  sent  elsewhere. 
The  widely-spread  network  of  agricultural  colonies,  and  other  aids 
for  the  ill-provided  juvenile  in  France,  enables  this  to  be  done. 
Thus  the  elite  of  the  street  Arabs  can  always  be  provided  for  at 
Montevrain.      Thus  is  this  special  school  almost  sure  of  success. 


A  SCHOOL  FOR  STREET  ARABS  299 

The  banislied  boys  are  sometimes  allowed  to  return.  Of  course  the 
incompetent  have  little  care  to  renew  their  failures,  but  in  cases  of 
mere  childish  waywardness  of  really  bright  youths  they  often  beg- 
to  go  back  to  such  a  cheerful  home,  where  their  talents  find  such 
gratifying  scope.  In  case  of  genuine  amendment  these  jirayers  are 
answered.  Thus  the  Moutevrain  school  is  a  very  model  of  good 
conduct.  The  Parisian  street  Arabs  take  pride  in  their  eminent 
privileges,  and  the  graduates  of  Montevrain  are  as  liable  to  achieve 
praiseworthy  social  distinction  as  the  graduates  of  any  learned  uni- 
versity in  the  world. 


THE  POOE  IN  NAPLES 
By  JESSIE  WHITE  VA.  MAEIO, 

AUTHOR  OF  GOVERNMENT  REPORTS  ON  THE  ITALIAN  POOR 

HouRiBLE  Condition  op  the  Naples  Poor  a  Quarter  op  a  Century  Ago — 
Pasquale  Villari's  Investigations— The  Dwellings — Epforts  at  Im- 
provement— The  Rampa  di  Brancaccio — The  Cemetery  for  the  Poor— 
The  Cholera  of  1884 — Volunteer  Nurses— King  Humbert's  Visit  and 
Reforms — The  Sanitary^  Conditions — "Naples  Must  be  Disembowelled  " 
— Efforts  op  the  Municipality — The  Evicted  Poor — The  New  Build- 
ings— Needs  of  the  City — The  Hospitals — Emigration. 

THE  old  saying-  Vecli  Napoli  poi  mori7'  maybe  translated  "  See 
misery  in  Naples  to  learn  what  misery  means  " — ^to  realize 
what  amount  of  linnger,  nakedness,  vice,  ignorance,  supersti- 
tion, and  oppression  can  be  condensed  in  the  caves,  dens,  and  ken- 
nels, unfit  for  beasts,  inhabited  by  the  poor  of  Naples.  In  1871  it 
was  affirmed  by  the  "  authorities  "  that,  of  the  entire  population  of 
the  city,  two-thirds  had  no  recognized  means  of  livelihood  ;  no  one 
knew  how  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  million  human  beings  lived, 
still  less  where  they  passed  their  lives  of  privation,  pain,  and 
wretchedness ;  or  how,  when  death  ended  all,  their  bodies  were 
flung  down  to  rot  together  in  foul  charnel  holes,  far  away  and  apart 
from  the  holy  ground  where  the  upper  third  were  laid  to  rest  that — 

"  From  their  ashes  may  be  made 
The  violets  of  their  native  land." 

Five  years  later,  in  1876,  when  misery,  gaunt  and  stark,  reared 
its  head  for  the  first  time  defiantly  in  every  city,  town,  and  village 


THE  POOR  IN  NAPLES  301 

of  Italy — the  g-rinding-  tax,  proving-  the  proverbial  feather  on  the 
too  patient  camel's  back,  "  inquiries  into  distress,  its  causes  and 
possible  remedies,"  were  proposed  by  some  of  the  old  makers  of 
Italy,  who  maintained  that  the  aim  of  the  revolution  had  been  to 
create  a  country  for  all  the  Italians  and  not  for  a  privileged  few. 
The  government  sanctioned  the  proposal,  and  the  agricultural  in- 
quiry was  set  on  foot  and  carried  out  in  every  i^rovince  by  special 
commissioners.  It  revealed  such  depths  of  misery  in  the  rural  dis- 
tricts as  could  never  be  imagined  or  believed  in  by  those  who  still 
apostrophize : 

"  Thou  Italy,  whose  ever  goklen  fields, 
Ploughed  by  the  sunbeams  only,  would  suffice 
For  the  world's  granary. " 

In  Lombardy,  Mantua,  and  Yenetia,  all  fertile  wheat-iDroducing- 
provinces,  it  was  found  that  the  patient,  toiling,  abstemious  peas- 
ant, fed  upon  maize  exclusively,  tasting"  white  bread  only  at  glean- 
ing time,  rarely  touching-  wine,  washing-  down  his  untiojwovy  polenta 
with  impure,  fetid  water,  was  affected  with  pellagra.  This  awful 
disease — now,  alas,  become  endemic  and  hereditary — after  wasting- 
the  body  by  slow  degrees,  afl'ects  the  brain  and  lands  the  victims 
raving-  maniacs  in  the  male  and  female  mad  asylums  of  Venice  and 
of  Milan.  It  is  now  being-  successfully  g-rappled  with  in  the  first 
stages,  by  the  parish  doctors  who,  in  many  communes,  are  author- 
ized to  administer  white  bread,  wine,  and  even  meat ;  in  the  second, 
by  special  establishments  where  patients  are  received  and  treated, 
i.e.,  well  fed  until  they  recover /»;'c>  tein.;  while  for  the  poor  wretches 
who  have  reached  the  third  stage,  there  is  no  help  but  in  the  g-rave, 
no  hope  save  in  a  speedy  release. 

But  a  worse  state  of  things  was  revealed  in  Naples  by  private 
studies  and  researches  set  on  foot  by  Pasquale  Villari  *  and  the  re- 

*  The  present  writer  was  among  the  recruits,  but  for  a  long  time  declined  to  write 
of  misery  in  Naples  for  the  Italian  press,  believing  that  tlie  slate  of  the  poor  in  Lon- 
don was  even  worse  than  in  Naples.  Professor  Villari,  the  well-known  author  of  the 
lives  of  Savonarola  ami    Machiavelli,   Minister  of   Public    Instructiim.   inKh-rtook 


302  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

emits  lie  pressed  into  the  service  of  liis  native  city.  The  facts  and 
figures  set  down  in  unvarnished  prose  in  his  "  Southern  Letters," 
convinced  the  authorities  "  that  something-  must  be  done  if  only  to 
protect  the  '  upper  third  '  from  the  possible  upheaval  of  the  seeth- 
ing masses  below,  increasing-  ever  in  numbers,  terribly  dispropor- 
tioned  to  the  means  of  accommodation  provided  for  them." 

Heart  -  rending  as  were  the  descriptions  given  of  the  misery 
of  the  masses  by  Villari,  Fucino  Renato,  Fortunato  Sonnino,  and 
others,  they  by  no  means  prepared  me  for  the  actual  state  of  tilings 
which  I  heard,  saw,  and  touched  in  Naples,  accompanied  alternately 
by  priests,  policemen,  and  parish  doctors,  and  always  by  old  friends 
and  comrades  of  the  campaigning  days  when  all  believed  that  the 
overthrow  of  despots,  the  ousting  of  the  foreigner,  the  abolition  of 
the  temporal  power,  when  Italy  should  be  one  in  Rome,  would  find 
bread  and  work  for  all  as  the  result  of  liberty  and  the  ballot. 

I  spent  hours  and  days,  later,  weeks  and  months,  in  the  lower 
quarters  of  Porto,  Pendino,  Mercato,  and  Vicaria,  in  the  fondaci, 
the   cellars,   caves,   grottos,   brothels,   and    locande   (penny-a-night 

to  go  to  London  and  see  for  himself,  and  on  his  return  we  received  a  long  letter,  from 
which  the  following  is  an  extract  : 

"  I  assure  you,  on  my  honor,  that  the  poor  in  Naples  are  infinitely  worse  off  than 
the  poor  in  London.  Furnished  with  an  order  from  the  chief  of  police  in  London,  I 
have  visited,  with  detectives  in  plain  clothes,  the  worst  quarters  of  the  city — the 
Docks,  the  East  End,  saying  always  :  '  Show  me  all  that  is  most  horrible  in  Lon- 
don.    I  want  to  see  the  dwellings  of  the  most  wretclied  and  miserable  inhabitants.' 

"  Great  and  widespread  is  misery  in  London  ;  but  I  do  not  hesitate  to  declare, 
with  profound  conviction,  that  those  who  say  that  the  conditions  of  the  poor  in  Lon- 
don are  worse  than  those  of  the  poor  in  Naples,  have  either  never  seen  the  poor  in 
Loudon  or  have  never  visited  the  poor  in  Naples.  If  it  happens  that  cases  of  death 
from  starvation  are  more  frequent  in  London  than  in  Naples,  the  cause  lies  in  the 
climate  of  London.  If  in  Naples  we  had  the  climate  of  London  a  very  large  number 
of  our  poor  would  find  peace  in  the  grave  and  cease  to  live  a  life  that  is  worse  than 
death. 

"Pasquale  Villari. 

"Florence,  March  30,  1876." 

After  the  receipt  of  this  letter  we  published,  in  1877,  a  book  entitled  La  Miseria 
di  Napoli. 


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THE  POOR  IJV  NAPLES  805 

lodg-ing'-liouses)  wliere  the  raisevahles  congTegate.  Sickeniug-  were 
the  sights  by  day,  still  sadder  the  scenes  by  night  as  yoa  passed 
church  steps,  serving-  as  the  only  bed  for  hundreds  ;  under  porches 
where  you  stumbled  over,  without  awakening  the  sleejaers,  who  also 
occupied  the  benches  of  the  vendors  of  fish  and  other  comestibles 
in  Basso  Porto,  while  in  fish-baskets  and  empty  orang-e-boxes, 
curled  up  like  cats  but  without  the  cat's  fur  coat,  were  hundreds  of 
children  of  both  sexes  who  had  never  known  a  father  and  rarely 
knew  their  mother's  name  or  their  own.  It  was  a  farce  to  talk  of 
statistics  of  births  and  deaths  in  these  quarters.  "  The  existence  of 
the  bo3^s  is  known  to  the  authorities,"  writes  an  eminent  physician, 
now  (Assessore  d'igiene)  Sanitary  Officer  in  the  Municipality  of 
Naples,  "  when  they  are  taken  up  for  theft  or  npiccola  mancanza  :  of 
the  girls  when  they  come  on  the  brothel  registers  "  (abolished,  hu- 
manity be  praised !  in  1889).  Of  what  use  was  it  to  take  stock  of 
vice,  disease,  and  crime,  save  to  hold  it  up  as  the  legitimate  out- 
growth of  the  foul  dens  in  which  the  "  masses  "  herd>?  In  the  first 
report  made  by  the  corporation  it  was  shown  that  130,000  lived  in 
the  hassi  e  sotterranei,  in  cellars,  caves,  and  grottos.  No  mention 
was  then  made  of  the  fondaci,  which  the  Swedish  physician,  Axel 
Munthe,*  stigmatizes  as  "  the  most  ghastly  human  dwellings  on  the 
face  of  the  earth." 

Let  the  American  reader  take  that  wonderful  book,  "  How  the 
Other  Half  Lives,"  and  look  at  the  photograph  of  Hell's  Kitchen 
and  Sebastopol  (page  6).  Imagine  such  a  building,  but  with  blank 
walls  all  round,  no  windows  in  any,  entered  by  a  dark  alley  leading 
to  a  court  where  the  common  cesspool  fraternizes  with  the  drink- 
ing-water well,  where,  round  the  court,  are  stables  for  cows,  mules, 
donkeys,  and  goats — while  in  the  corners  of  the  same  court,  tripe, 
liver  and  lights  vendors  prepare  their  edibles,  or  stale  fish-mongers 
keep  their  deposits — and  they  will  have  the  framework  and  exterior 
of  a  fondaco.  Then  let  them  construct  in  their  mind's  eye  one 
single  brick  or  stone  staircase  leading  up  to  inner  balconies — up, 

*  See  Lelters  from  a  Mourning  City. 
20 


306 


THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 


up,  three,  four,  or  five  stories.  Fifteen  or  twenty  rooms  are  entered 
from  each  balcony,  which  serves  for  door  and  window,  there  being 
no  other  aperture  ;  each  corner  room  on  each  story  being"  absolutely 
dark  even  at  mid-day,  as  each  balcony  is  covered  with  the  joavement 
of  the  upper  one.  Put  a  hole  between  each  two  rooms  for  the  pub- 
lic performance  of 
all  private  offices ; 
shut  out  from  the 
top  story  such  light 
as  might  gieam 
from  the  sky,  by 
dint  of  poles, 
strings,  ropes,  and 
cords  laden  with 
filthy  rags  —  and 
you  have  a  more 
or  less  accurate 
idea  of  the  interior 
of  the  fondaco  at 
Naples. 

All  of  these  I 
have  visited  at  in- 
tervals during  the 
last  seventeen 
years,  finding  their 
numbers  dimin- 
ished at  each  visit, 
but  never  until  lately  have  I  found  a  new  tenement  inhabited  by 
the  evicted /?m??«cAe/'e  for  whom  they  were  ostensibly  built. 

In  1877  the  municipality  made  a  grant  of  land  to  a  co-operative 
society  for  the  purpose  of  building  houses  for  the  poor.  As  soon 
as  these  were  finished,  small  shop-keepers,  civil  servants,  etc.,  se- 
cured all  the  apartments ;  then  irritated  by  the  taunts  that  they 
were  living  in  houses  built  for  the  poor,  inscribed  on  the  front  of 


A   Girl  of  the   People. 


THE  POOR  IN  NAPLES  307 

the  block,  "  The  houses  of  the  Co-operative  Society  are  not  poor- 
houses  ! "  Ag-aiu,  in  1879,  a  loan  was  raised  for  demolishing-  the 
worst  fondaci  and  grottos,  cellars,  and  caves,  and  for  the  erection 
of  airy,  healthy  tenements  for  the  people,  and  in  1880  the  writer 
was  invited  by  the  mayor  to  inspect  these.  Capital  houses  they 
were  !  built  on  the  spot  where  last  I  had  seen  the  fondaci— AxceWa., 
Castig-lione,  Conventino,  San  Camillo,  Cento  Piatti,  Piscavino  S. 
Felice,  Miroballo — and  after  due  admiration  of  the  spacious  court, 
wide  street,  decent  ing-ress,  outer  balconies,  etc.,  I  ventured  to  ask  : 
"  Where  are  the  funnachere  ?  These  clean,  Avell-dressed  people, 
with  their  pianos  and  excellent  furniture,  are  not  the  poor  creatures 
we  used  to  visit  here." 

"  Of  course  they  are  not,"  said  the  contractor,  "  what  are  they  to 
us  ?  "  while  a  vice-syndic  said  :  "  This  is  my  section  ;  I  know  that 
my  rione  is  redeemed,  that  we  have  got  rid  of  the  plebs  :  what  care 
we  where  they  are  gone  ?  Let  them  burst,  it  would  be  better  for 
them.     Cre^nno  pure,  che  sard  meglio  !  "  * 

As  I  was  turning  from  the  spot  in  silent  despair,  an  old  man 
came  up  and  said  :  "  I  can  tell  you  Avliere  some  of  the  jooor  creat- 
iires  are  gone.  They  were  turned  out  into  the  streets,  many  of  them 
went  into  the  fondaci  that  remain,  two  families,  and  even  three  in  a 
room ;  the  price  of  these  has  been  raised  as  the  numbers  grow  less, 
and  many  of  them  are  in  the  grotto  at  the  Rampa  di  Brancaccio." 
With  a  newspaper  man,  sceptical  of  "the  misery  of  the  poor  in 
Naples,"  and  an  English  and  a  German  lady,  I  walked  along  the 
splendid  Corso  Vittorio  Emanuele,  whence  you  have  the  finest  view 
of  Naples,  of  Vesuvius  and  the  sea,  and  suddenly 

"  Out  of  the  sunlit  glory 
Into  the  dark  we  trod—" 

literally  dropping  down  into  the  grotto  del  Brancaccio,  where,  at 
first,  absolute  darkness  seemed  to  reign. 

It  was  a  cavern  with  mud  for  pavement,  rock  for  walls,  while  the 

*  I  quote  from  a  letter  printed  in  the  Pmvjolo,  of  Naples,  on  the  day  of  the  visit. 


308  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

water  dripped  from  the  ceiling,  and  one  sink  in  the  centre  served 
for  the  "  wants  of  all."  Here  were  lodged  more  than  two  hundred 
human  beings,  some  forty  families  ;  their  apartments  being  di- 
vided bj^  a  string  where  they  hung  their  Avretched  rags.  The  fami- 
lies who  had  the  "  apartments  "  by  the  grating  that  served  for  win- 
dow, paid  ten,  nine,  eight,  seven  lire  per  month  each.  These  poor 
creatures  subscribed  among  themselves  two  lire  so  that  a  poor  old 
man  should  not  be  turned  out,  but  allowed  to  sleep  on  straw  by  the 
common  sink,  and  they  fed  a  poor  woman  who  was  dying,  with 
scraps  from  their  scant  repasts.  This  grotto  yielded  its  owner  a 
montlily  rent,  always  paid  up,  far  exceeding  that  paid  by  the  in- 
habitants of  the  new  tenements  and  decent  houses,  and  he  con- 
tinued to  so  "  grind  the  faces  of  the  poor  "  until  1884,  when  King 
Cholera  carried  off  his  tenants,  and  the  grotto  was  closed,  as  was 
the  charnel-house  to  which  the  inmates  were  carried  to  their  last 

abode. 

In  order  to  convince  the  sceptic  still  further  that  there  was  no 
exaggeration  in  the  accounts  of  the  horrors,  we  invited  him  to  ac- 
company us  to  what  was  then  the  only  cemetery  for  the  poor  of 
Naples.  It  is  an  immense  square  with  three  hundred  and  sixty- 
five  holes,  each  covered  with  a  huge  stone,  with  a  ring  in  each  for 
uplifting.  On  the  first  of  January,  hole  No.  1  was  opened  and  all 
the  poor  who  died  on  that  day  were  brought  up  iu  great  pomp  of 
funeral  car  and  trappings,  with  priests  and  tapers,  etc.  The  first  to 
be  thrown  in  was  a  corpse  with  shirt  and  trousers.  "  He  is  a  pri- 
vate," said  La  Raffaella,  the  poor  woman  who  used  to  take  charge 
of  the  child  corpses,  kiss  each  of  them  so  that  they  might  take  the 
kiss  to  "  limbo."  "  He  died  at  home  and  his  people  had  dressed 
him."  He  was  placed  in  the  zinc  coffin,  the  crank  swung  this  over 
the  hole,  you  heard  a  fall,  then  the  coffin  came  up  empty  :  next 
were  flung  down  the  naked  corpses  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  poor- 
houses  and  charitable  institutions,  then  the  little  children.  Last 
came  up  the  car  of  the  Hospital  Degli  Incurabili,  with  the  scat- 
tered members  swept  from  the  dissecting-table.      Then  the  hole 


THE  POOR  IN  NAPLES 


3U9 


An  Old  Street  in  the   Poor  Quarter  being  Metanriorphosed. 


No.  1  was  closed  not  to  be  reopened  until  next  year.  On  the  mor- 
row, over  hole  No.  2  the  same  horrors  were  re-enacted.  The  vic- 
tims of  Kinsr  Cholera  in  188i  were  the  last  buried  in  these  charueL 


310  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

holes ;  the  cemeterj^  Avas  closed  when  he  was  dethroned,  and  a  new 
cemetery  for  the  poor  opened  just  opposite  the  monumental  ceme- 
tery of  the  rich  at  Foria. 

It  was  in  the  summer  of  that  year  that  the  cholera  reappeared 
and  its  swift  and  sudden  ravages  compelled  attention  to  the 
"where"  and  "how"  its  numerous  victims  lived  and  died.  In  these 
same  quarters  of  Porto  Pendino,  Mercato,  and  Yicaria,  20,000  died 
of  cholera  in  1836-37  ;  an  equal  number  in  1854-65,  1866,  and  1873, 
while  the  higher  quarters  of  Naples  were  comparatively  free  from 
the  scourge.  In  1884,  from  the  17th  of  August  to  the  31st,  the 
cases  were  not  more  than  three  every  twenty-four  hours.  On  the 
1st  of  September  143  were  attacked,  72  succumbed  on  the  10th  of 
the  same  month ;  966  cases,  474  deaths,  are  given  as  the  official  sta- 
tistics ;  the  sum  total  of  deaths  is  variously  stated  at  eight,  nine, 
and  ten  thousand.  But  official  bulletins  are  never  trustworthy  in 
these  cases,  the  authorities  strive  to  abate  panic,  and  it  is  a  well- 
known  fact  that  numbers  of  cases  were  never  reported  to  the  munic- 
ipality, the  dead  being  carried  oflf  in  carts  and  omnibuses  to  the 
special  cholera  cemetery  and  charnel-house,  without  any  possible 
register.  Dr.  Axel  Munthe,  who  lived  and  worked  among  the  poor 
during  the  entire  time,  gives  it  as  his  belief,  supported  by  others, 
that  during  "  not  one  but  four  or  five  days  there  were  about  one 
thousand  cases  per  diem."  So  markedly  was  the  disease  confined 
to  the  poor  quarters  that  for  many  days  it  was  impossible  for  the 
municipal  authorities  to  do  anything  to  alleviate  its  ravages  ;  the 
poor,  ignorant,  superstitious  plebs  being  firmly  convinced  that  the 
cholera  had  been  introduced  among  them  for  the  express  purpose 
of  diminishing  their  numbers. 

Hence  the  refusal  to  go  to  the  hospital,  to  take  the  medicines 
sent,  to  allow  disinfectants  to  be  iised,  to  abstain  from  fruit,  vege- 
tables, and  stale  fish,  even  when  good  soup  and  meat  were  oifered 
instead.  Then  it  was  that  King  Humbert  went  to  Naples  and  vis- 
ited in  person  the  stricken  patients  in  iheiv  fojidaci  and  cellars,  in 
the  caves  and  slums,  and  this,  his  first  experience  of  actual  misery, 


/f, 


«1/ 


GOSSIP    IN    PENDING    STREET,    NAPLES. 


THE  POOR  IN  NAPLES  313 

save  as  the  result  of  war  or  a  sudden  catastrophe,  made  such  a  pro- 
found impression  on  his  mind  that  he  ]3romised  the  poor  people 
there  and  then  that  they  should  have  decent  houses  built  expressly 
for  them.  Even  now  they  will  tell  you  that  (h  Re  kept  his  word, 
but  that  the  Signori  have  taken  the  jmlacea  all  for  themselves. 

The  royal  example  was  speedily  followed ;  bands  of  students 
and  working-men  under  the  white  cross  proffered  their  services,  and 
the  Neapolitan  citizens  who  had  not  all  fled,  enlisted  under  the 
doctors,  who  are  ever  brave  and  devoted  in  Italy,  and  Avorked  as 
nurses,  cooks,  helpers  of  the  living,  even  as  porters  of  the  dead. 
The  poor  people,  ever  grateful,  gentle,  docile,  yielded  to  these 
"  kind  strangers,"  and  allowed  themselves  to  be  taken  to  the  hos- 
pitals or  tended  in  their  own  dens  where,  by  the  White  Cross  band 
alone,  assistance  was  furnished  to  7,015  cases.  Of  the  volunteer 
nurses,  Lombards,  Tuscans,  Romans,  some  ninety  in  all,  several 
were  attacked  but  only  three  succumbed,  all  adhering  strictly  to 
the  rules  laid  down  as  to  diet  and  the  specifics  to  be  used  in  case 
of  seizure.  The  cholera,  at  its  height  between  the  10th  and  18th 
of  September,  abated  gradually  from  that  day  until  the  9th  of  Octo- 
ber, when  suddenly,  on  the  10th  and  lltli,  122  were  attacked  and  37 
succumbed.  This  10th  of  October  is  the  first  of  the  famous  ottohrate, 
when  the  poorest  of  the  poor  managed  to  get  a  taste  of  the  new 
wine  which  is  still  fermenting,  and  that  year  it  is  very  probable 
that  they  toasted  with  unwonted  zeal  the  disappearance  of  the 
cholera,  which  on  the  9th  had  not  made  a  single  victim.  The  lus- 
cious blue  figs,  the  bread  and  watermelons  which  could  in  that 
cholera  year  be  had  for  a  song,  were  also  unusually  abundant. 
The  regulations  at  last  enforced  by  the  authorities  had  been  re- 
laxed ;  the  sale  of  rags  recommenced,  and  to  all  these  causes  may 
doubtless  be  owing  in  part  the  reappearance  of  the  foe  supposed 
to  be  vanquished. 

But  fortunately  for  poor  Naples,  the  cholera  found  in  King 
Humbert  an  adversary  determined  to  resist  its  intrusion  for  the 
future  ;  and  men  of  science,  doctors,  students,  were  encouraged  to 


3U  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

study  the  causes  of  the  disease  even  more  diligently  than  the  cure 
for  it,  when  in  possession.  When  the  sudden  reappearance  filled 
the  city  with  fresh  alarm,  and  the  poor,  wretched  people  were 
soundly  abused  in  the  newspapers  for  their  "  orgies,"  more  than 
one  professor  affirmed  that  the  real  cause  must  be  traced  to  the 
sudden  change  of  temperature,  to  the  southwest  wind,  sirocco, 
which  prevents  the  sewers  from  discharging  their  contents  into 
the  sea  and  drives  the  refuse  back  to  the  streets  and  shores,  which, 
in  the  quarters  of  Pendino  and  Porto,  are  almost  on  a  level  with 
the  sea ;  and  to  the  condition  of  the  water  under  ground  which, 
swelled  by  the  tremendous  rainfalls,  carried  more  putrid  matter 
than  usual  into  the  drinking-wells  and  streams.  Certain  it  is  that 
as  soon  as  the  tramontana  (north  wind)  began  to  blow,  and  the  low 
tides  allowed  the  impurities  to  put  out  to  sea,  the  cholera  dimin- 
ished and  for  three  years  returned  no  more.  Then  came  the  narra- 
tions in  the  newspapers  of  the  actual  state  of  the  habitations  of  the 
poor — how  human  beings  and  beasts  were  crowded  together,  how 
the  stables  were  never  cleaned,  how  the  sinks  filtered  into  the  wells 
— twelve  hundred  and  fourteen  of  these  being  foul  but  "  possibly 
cleansible,"  while  sixt3-three  were  ordered  to  be  filled  up  and 
closed.  It  was  shown  that  these  quarters  were  more  densely  popu- 
lated than  any  other  portion  of  Europe,  London  included ;  while 
the  insalubrious  trades  were  carried  on  in  the  most  populous  por- 
tions of  the  overcrowded  quarters,  there  being  no  less  than  two 
liundred  and  thirty -five  large  and  small  rag  and  bone  stores  in  the 
midst,  while  decayed  vegetables,  the  entrails  of  beasts,  and  stale 
fish  were  left  where  flung,  scavengers  and  dustmen  confining  their 
labors  to  the  quarters  of  the  "upper  third." 

All  these  accounts  King  Humbert  read  attentively,  and  to  old 
Depretis,  then  prime  minister,  said :  "  Italy  must  redeem  Naples 
at  any  cost."  And  the  old  statesman  answered:  "Yes,  Naples 
must  be  disembowelled."  Bisogna  sventrare  Napoli.  A  bill  Avas 
presented  to  the  Chamber  for  the  gift  of  fifty  millions  of  lire,  and 
the  loan  of  other  fifty  millions  for  the  sanitation  of  the  unhealthy 


THE  POOR  IN  NAPLES 


3J5 


quarters  of  the  city,  and  for  the  decent  housing-  of  the  poor,  and 
the  sums  were  voted  without  a  murmur,  so  great  was  the  sympathy 
felt  for  the  victims  of  the  cholera  and  their  survivors,  whose  misery 
was  portrayed  with  heart  -  rending  eloquence.  The  senate  ap- 
proved, and  the  king  set  his  zeal  to  the  decree  on  January  15,  1885. 

As  studies  for  the  amelioration  of  the  poor  quarters  and  the  san- 
itation of  Naples  had  been  carried  on,  and  paid  for,  and  tlie  authors 
of  plans  decorated 
during  the  last  ten 
years,  it  was  sup- 
posed that  (the  fi- 
nancial question 
solved)  the  work 
would  be  com- 
menced there  and 
then,  but  two  more 
years  were  wasted 
in  finding  out 
"  how  not  to  do  it." 

Until  1850  Na- 
ples had  always 
been  reckoned  one 
of  the  healthiest 
cities  in  Italy.  Ty- 
phus and  diphthe- 
ria were  rare  ;  no  one  had  ever  heard  of  a  Neapolitan  fever.  True, 
when  the  rains  were  heavy  the  city  in  many  parts  was  inundated 
with  flowing  streams  called  lave,  and  wooden  bridges  were  erected 
over  several  streets,  otherwise  traffic  would  have  been  impossible. 
Once  the  so-called  lava  dei  vergini  carried  away  a  horse  and  car- 
riage in  its  impetuous  course.  To  remedy  this  state  of  things 
the  government  of  King  Bomba  ordered  a  system  of  sewers  which, 
either  owing  to  the  ignorance  of  the  engineers  or  the  jobbery  of  the 
contractors,  rendered  the  last  state  of  Naples  worse  than  the  first. 


f.££^^^/l'^ 


Begging  Hands. 


316  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT   CITIES 

Into  these  sewers,  wMcli  had  insufficient  slope,  not  only  the  rain- 
water, bnt  the  water  from  sinks,  all  the  contents  of  the  cesspools, 
were  supposed  to  flow.  But  in  seasons  of  droug-ht  nothing-  flowed  ; 
all  remained  in  the  sewers.  Often  the  sewers  were  so  badly  con- 
structed that  instead  of  carrying  off  the  contents  of  the  cesspools 
the}'  carried  their  own  contents  into  the  drinking--wells.  Hence  the 
stench  often  noticed  in  some  of  the  best  streets  of  Naples.  Some 
of  the  conduits  are  almost  on  a  level  with  the  street ;  many  of  them 
have  burst.  One  of  the  best  modern  engineers  of  Naples  writes : 
"  If  you  uncover  the  streets  of  our  city,  ditches  of  putrid  matter 
most  baneful  to  health  will  reveal  themselves  to  the  eye  of  the  in- 
discreet observer."  He  quotes  one  special  sjaot,  Vkolo  del  Sole, 
"  where  cholera,  tyjihus,  every  sort  of  lung  disease  had  reigned  su- 
preme." This  "  Sun  alley,"  where  the  sun  never  shines,  was  closed, 
and  the  health  of  the  neighborhood  became  normal.  But  when  a 
number  of  jjeople  were  ousted  from  their  houses  for  the  excavation 
of  the  corso  reale,  the  Vicolo  was  again  inhabited,  and  out  of 
seventy-two  inhabitants,  the  cholera  carried  off  sixty.  Every  time 
that  excavations  were  made  in  any  part  of  the  low  quarters  of 
Naples,  typhus,  diphtheria,  or  the  newly  invented  Neapolitan 
fever  broke  out — and,  to  quote  official  statements,  "  If  one  case  of 
fever  broke  out  in  a  house  where  the  cesspool  communicated  with 
the  drinking- well,  all  the  families  who  drew  water  from  that  well 
were  laid  low  with  the  same  fever.  Again,  these  horrible  sewers 
when  they  succeeded  in  emptying  themselves,  did  so  in  the  most 
populous  quarters  of  the  city,  so  that  the  Kiviera  became  a  putrid 
lake,  and  in  the  best  quarters  of  Chiaja  the  stench  at  eventide  was 
so  horrible  that  the  people  used  to  call  it  the  malora  di  Chiaja  (bad 
hour  of).  When  the  southwest  wind  blew  the  high  tide  prevented 
the  sewerage  from  going  out  to  sea,  so  all  the  matter  brought  down 
remained  strewed  along  the  shore.  The  best  hotels  were  closed 
owing  to  the  fever  that  prevailed,  and  are  now  nearly  all  replaced 
by  others  built  in  the  higher  quarters,  the  Eione  Amadeo,  Corso 
Vittorio  Emanuele,  etc. 


THE  POOR  IN  NAPLES 


317 


Hence  the  firs<3  thing-  to  be  thought  of  for  the  sanitation  of  Na- 
ples was  the  renovation  and  purification  of  the  drains.  The  fewest 
possible  excavations,  the  greatest  possible  extent  of  colmate  (raising 
the  level),  was  clear- 
ly indicated  ;  and  as 
this  "  silting  up  " 
the  lower  quarters 
has  to  be  done,  not 
as  in  Lincolnshire 
fens  by  allowing*  wa- 
ter to  leave  its  own 
sediments,  but  by 
material  imported,  it 
was  and  is  a  very 
costly  proceeding. 

Alas !  that  the 
lessons  taught  by 
the  former  attempts 
at  redeeming  the 
slums  should  have 
been  forgotten,  or 
rather  deliberately 
neg-lected.  "  Don't 
begin  at  the  end  in- 
stead of  at  the  be- 
ginning-," said  G. 
Florenzano,  in  1885. 
"  Don't  begin  by  pull- 
ing- down  the  old 
houses  until  you  have  built  new  ones  for  the  evicted  tenants  of  the 
fondaci,  grottos,  etc.  Jf  you  go  on  the  old  system  the  poor  creat- 
ures who  now  have  a  roof  over  their  heads  will  have  to  crowd  the 
remaining /6';^<'/ac^  even  as  did  those  of  Porto  when  you  beautified 
the  Via  del  Duomo,  or  they  will  crowd  into  the  cloisters  of  S.  Tom- 


"  Hunger,"   a  Sketch    in   the    Poor  Quarter. 


318  .     THE  POOR  IN  ORE  AT  CITIES 

maso  di  Aquino,  where  the  cliolera  mowed  down  so  many  victims. 
You  can  pull  down  houses  in  a  week,  but  it  takes  a  year  to  build 
them,  and  another  year  must  elapse  before  they  are  habitable." 
The  discussions  and  commissions  went  on  for  two  years  and  a  half. 
There  was  the  question  of  whether  the  municipality  should  expro- 
priate, demolish,  and  rebuild  on  its  own  account.  The  majority 
were  against  this,  urging-  that  public  bodies  are  the  worst  of  all 
workers.  Then  should  the  whole  contract  be  given  to  one  society 
or  to  several  ?  And  here  the  war  of  the  "  one  lot  "  or  "  lot  of  lots  " 
raged  fiercely.  "  Whoever  gets  the  contract,  however  few  or  many 
be  the  contractors,"  said  Villari,  from  his  seat  in  the  Senate,  and 
other  sentimentalists,  "let  them  be  bound  over  to  build  healthy 
houses  for  the  poor  who  will  be  evicted  from  the  slums,  on  a  site 
not  so  far  from  their  old  homes  as  to  prevent  them  from  carrying 
on  their  daily  emj)loyments,  and  at  rents  certainly  not  higher  than 
those  they  pay  at  present." 

To  this,  practical  people  answered  that :  "  No  building  society 
would  build  at  a  loss,  and  that  healthy  houses  in  healthy  sites  in 
the  populous  quarters  of  Naples  could  not  be  erected  for  the  letting 
price  of  five  lire  per  room." 

"  Then  let  the  municipality  first  deduct  from  the  hundred  mill- 
ions given  for  the  poor  of  Naples  such  sums  as  are  necessary  for 
building  these  houses  without  profit,"  retorted  the  sentimentalists ; 
"  in  the  long  run  they  will  be  found  to  pay,  but  in  any  case  they 
must  be  built." 

As  usual  the  vox  clamante  resounded  in  the  desert  only.  In 
1888,  the  municipality  entered  into  a  contract  with  a  building  soci- 
ety of  Milan  for  the  entire  work  of  expropriation,  demolition  of  old 
houses,  the  construction  of  new  ones,  and  the  all-important  work 
of  laying  down  the  sewers  and  paving  the  streets  above.  The  lay- 
ing down  of  gas  and  the  canalization  of  the  water  of  the  Serino  in 
the  new  quarters  was  alone  retained  in  the  hands  of  the  municipal- 
ity and  separately  contracted  for.  The  contract  itself,  to  use  the 
words  of  the  minority  of  the  "  communal  councillors,"  represented 


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li   f,r.|-''l':^':l^^^'^'* 


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THE  POOR  IN  NAPLES  321 

a  direct  violation  of  the  spirit  of  the  law  passed  by  the  Italian  par- 
liament in  the  interests  of  the  community  and  for  the  sanitation  of 
Naples,  while  the  commission  of  inquiry  delegated  by  the  council 
to  examine  and  report  on  the  works,  affirmed  that  "  Private  specu- 
lation, substituted  for  the  superintendence  of  the  commune  and  the 
State,  naturally  ignored  the  philanthropic  impulse  of  the  law,  alloAv- 
ing  industrial  calculation  and  bankers'  rings  to  boss  the  enterprise 
especially  planned  for  the  benefit  of  the  poorest  classes  and  to  san- 
ify  the  lowest  quarters  of  the  city."  So  much  for  the  spirit  of  the 
contract. 

Coming  to  its  execution,  the  municipality  neither  armed  itself 
with  sufficient  powers  for  compelling  the  contractors  to  perform 
their  work  properly,  nor  did  it  put  such  powers  as  were  reserved 
into  execution.  Consequently  expropriations  which,  by  the  terms 
of  the  contract,  ought  to  have  allowed  three  months  to  elapse  be- 
tween the  notice  to  quit  and  the  actual  departure,  were  often  car- 
ried out  within  a  week  of  the  notice  given.  Availing  themselves 
of  the  law  which  sanctions  exjDropriations  at  a  fixed  price  for 
public  benefit,  the  society  bore  hard  on  manj^  small  proprie- 
tors, whose  houses  they  took  without  any  immediate  need,  and 
these,  until  the  time  comes  for  their  demolition,  are  underlet  to 
the  worst  class  of  usurers,  Avho  have  evicted  the  tenants  and 
doubled  the  rent.  Then  the  first  houses  were  jerry  built.  One  fell 
while  building  and  killed  several  workmen.  Again,  the  contract 
bound  the  society  to  build  houses  only  three  stories  high,  to  avoid 
the  overcrowding  so  complained  of  in  the  old  quarters.  They  built 
them  of  four  stories.  The  courtyards  were  to  occupy  one-sixth  of 
the  Avhole  area  of  each  tenement — they  were  found  to  occupy 
barely  one-seventh  or  even  one-eighth.  Finally  (and  this  raised  a 
popular  outcry  at  last),  in  no  single  tenement  built  by  the  so- 
ciety could  the  evicted  poor  find  a  room,  because  they  were  all 
about  twice  the  price  of  their  former  ones,  and  so  far  removed 
from   the   scene   of  their  daily  labors   that  it  was  very  doubtful 

whether  they  could  inhabit  them  at   all.     It   is  neither  edifying 
13 


322  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

nor  iuteresting"  to  seek  out  wlio  were  the  chief  culprits  ;  certainly 
the  municipal  authorities,  who  took  no  thought  for  the  poor  for 
whom  the  money  was  voted,  were  the  original  sinners.  But  when 
the  hue  and  cry  was  raised  the  money  was  spent  and  it  was  no  use 
crying-  over  spilt  milk.  The  municipality  was  bankrupt.  Besides 
inheriting-  the  debts  and  deficits  of  its  predecessors,  it  had  squan- 
dered vast  sums  on  useless  works,  g-iven  three  millions  to  the  so- 
ciety which  built  the  King-  Humbert  Gallery — a  capital  building- 
for  the  cold  and  uncertain  climate  of  Milan  ;  quite  a  superfluity  in 
sunny  Naples,  where  everybody  lives  in  the  open  air,  and  where 
you  can  hardly  yet  g-et  sellers  and  buyers  to  use  the  new  covered 
market-place  instead  of  the  street  pavements. 

So  the  municipality  was  dissolved  by  the  government  and  a 
Royal  Commissioner  sent  to  take  the  affairs  of  the  commune  in 
hand.  When  I  came  here  affairs  seemed  past  praying-  for,  the 
state  of  overcrowding-  in  the  poorest  quarters  was  worse  than  ever. 
I  found  houses  condemned  as  unsafe  and  propjjed  up  with  shores, 
without  a  window-pane  or  door  on  hing-es,  crowded  to  excess — the 
fondaci  left  standing-  with  double  their  old  numbers  of  inhabitants  ; 
the  cellars  full,  and  at  night  the  streets  turned  into  public  dormi- 
tories. True,  the  water  from  the  Serino  had  been  broug-ht  into 
Naples,  and  this  is  a  priceless  boon  which  can  only  be  appreciated 
by  those  who  remember  the  bad  old  days  when  even  at  the  best 
hotels  you  dared  not  drink  a  g-lass  of  unboiled  water ;  when  the 
poor  people  had  to  purchase  water  at  one  or  two  sous  per  litre, 
those  who  could  not  do  so  g-oiug-  athirst.  Then  the  old  charnel- 
house  is  actually  closed,  and  the  new  cemetery  is  as  beautiful  as  a 
cemetery  need  be.  Though  it  has  only  been  open  five  years  it  is 
already  nearly  full.  The  poor  have  the  graves  and  a  parish  coffin 
gratis,  but  after  eighteen  months  the  "  bones  are  exhumed  to  make 
room  for  the  fresh  corpses."  The  families  who  can  afford  to  do  so 
pay  for  a  niche  in  which  to  deposit  the  "  bones,"  while  the  remains 
of  those  who  have  no  friends  able  to  do  so  are  placed  in  a  huge  cis- 
tern outside  the  cemetery.     At  any  rate  the  poorest  have  now  for  a 


THE  POOR  IN  NAPLES 


323 


time  a  grave  to  themselves  and  need  not  say  Avith  envy  as  they 
used  to  do  when  accompanying  some  signore  to  the  monumental 
cemetery,  "O  Mayn- 


niia       ima,      varria 


murt    pe 
"  Mother 


stacca  !  " 
mine,  I 
would  die  to  stop 
here." 

Then  Naples  as 
a  city  is  undoubt- 
edly renovated  and 
beautified ;  always 
hella,  ever  dolce,  it 
is  now  one  of  the 
most  commodious 
cities  in  the  world. 
Trams  take  you 
from  Posilipo  to 
the  royal  palace, 
from  the  Via  Tasso 
to  the  lieclusoria. 
New  palaces,  new 
houses  rise  \\\)  to 
the  east  and  west  of 
the  city. 

Besides  the  dem- 
olitions and  recon- 
structions of  the 
famous  Societa  di 
Kisanimento,  an- 
other   society    has 

built  largely  at  the  Rioiie  Vasto  at  Capuana,  case  economiche  and 
edifizi  civili  which  we  should  call  workmen's  houses  and  houses  for 
well-to-do  peoj)le.     Even  so  in  the  Rione  Arenaccia  Orientale,  in  the 


Or\  Ihe   Stjiri  of   Santa  Lucia. 


324  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

Rlone  S.  Efrem  Vecchio  OttocalU  Ponti  Rossi.  lu  the  Rione  Vometv- 
Arenella  the  Bauca  Tiberina  has  built  enormously ;  constructed  two 
J'miicolari  (cable  railwaj^s),  and  in  two  years  the  population  of  that 
quarter  has  increased  from  751  to  3,991 ;  but  there  are  no  funna- 
chhre  among-  them. 

In  the  favorite  quarter  of  foreign  artists,  Santa  Lucia,  where  the 
oyster  and  "  fruits  of  the  sea  "  mongers  and  their  wives,  the  sulphur- 
water  vendors,  fryers  of  2^olipi  and  peperoni,  congregate,  these  luc'i- 
ani  also  inhabit  fondaci  not  quite  as  filthy  as  those  of  Porto  and 
Pendino,  nor  are  they  nearly  as  docile.  They  strongly  objected  to 
the  tramway  as  an  invasion  of  their  rights,  and  laughed  to  scorn 
the  builders  of  the  new  houses  on  the  shore  of  the  Castello  Dell' 
Uovo  and  of  the  new  loggie  for  the  shell-fish  vendors.  "  The  first 
high  wind,"  they  say,  would  carry  stalls  and  fish  into  the  sea,  and  as 
for  the  new  houses,  they  pis2{ca7io  (are  too  dear),  no7i  jannme  'n  terra 
(they  shall  not  demolish  our  houses),  they  tell  you,  and  as  yet  no 
one  has  dared  to  tackle  them.  The  new  houses  are  divided  into 
charming  little  apartments  with  a  kitchen  and  convenience  in  each, 
but  the  kitchen  and  one  room  cost  15  lire,  others  20,  30,  even  35  lire. 

With  a  budget  of  thirty  million  lire  and  a  huge  deficit,  little 
margin  was  left  to  the  Roj'al  Commissary,  who  had  to  cut  down 
estimates,  retrench  in  every  department,  "  economize  to  the  bone," 
but  as  winter  approached,  the  cry  of  the  people  became  audible  in 
high  places.  It  was  one  thing  to  camp  out  in  the  summer,  but 
quite  another  to  use  the  streets  for  bed  and  the  sky  for  roof  in  the 
months  of  December,  January,  and  February,  while  the  new  com- 
mission of  engineers  and  medical  men  pronounced  many  of  the 
hovels  still  inhabited  to  be  "  dangerous  to  life  and  limb,"  and  or- 
dered the  society  to  repair  or  close  them  at  once.  The  society 
chose  the  latter  alternative,  thus  reducing  still  further  the  scant  ac- 
commodation— but  the  Royal  Commissary  was  not  a  "  corporation." 
He  had  a  soul,  or  at  least  a  heart.  "  For  six  months,"  he  writes,  in 
his  report  to  the  government  at  the  close  of  his  mission,  '*  a  fam- 
ished mob,  turha  famelica,  have  thronged  the  stairs  of  the  muni- 


THE  POOR  IN  NAPLES  325 

cipality ;  childreu  of  both  sexes,  utterly  destitute,  who  must  of 
necessity  go  to  the  bad ;  mothers  chispiug-  dying-  babies  to  their 
milkless  breasts  ;  widows  followed  by  a  tribe  of  almost  naked  chil- 
dren ;  aged  and  intirm  of  both  sexes,  hungry  and  in  tatters— and 
this  spectacle,  which  has  wrung  my  heart,  reveals  but  a  small  por- 
tion of  the  prevalent  destitution.  One  can  but  marvel  at  the  docile 
nature  of  the  lower  orders  of  Neapolitans,  who  bear  with  such 
resignation  and  patience  their  unutterable  sufferings.  One  cannot 
think  without  shuddering  of  this  winter,  which  overtook  whole 
families  without  a  roof  over  their  heads,  without  a  rag  to  cover 
them,  without  the  slightest  provision  for  their  maintenance." 

To  remedy  this  awful  state  of  things  in  some  degree,  this  royal 
extraordinary  commissary,  in  Naples  for  six  months  only  (Senator 
Giuseppe  Saredo),  gave  it  to  be  understood  that  the  society  7mi.d 
find  means  of  lodging  the  evicted  poor  in  some  of  the  new  tene- 
ments at  the  old  prices.  He  even  consented  to  a  compromise,  by 
which,  leaving  all  the  work  of  laying  down  drains  and  filling  up 
low  places  intact,  he  consented  to  the  delay  in  certain  buildings 
which  ought  to  have  been  completed  in  the  third  hiemiio,  on  the 
conditions  that  the  society  should  cede  tenements  capable  of  hous- 
ing fifteen  hundred  people,  no  single  room  to  cost  more  than  five 
lire  per  month.  The  first  great  exodus  took  place  in  December, 
1891;  unfortunately,  the  housing  schedules  were  not  all  given  to 
people  who  could  not  afford  to  pay  more  than  five  lire  ;  and  when  I 
visited  the  tenements  the  brass  bedsteads  and  mahogany  chests  of 
drawers  told  tales  of  past  homes  in  quite  other  places  than  in  the 
slums.  But  in  many  rooms  we  did  find  our  funacchere;  the  thin 
end  of  the  wedge  was  inserted,  and  when  the  Eoyal  Commissary's 
term  of  office  came  to  an  end  the  new  Syndic  repeated  the  experi- 
ment, and  arranged  with  the  society  for  other  tenements  capable 
of  housing  other  two  thousand  of  the  poorest.  This  time  the  vice- 
syndics  have  had  a  warning  that  if  they  give  schedules  to  any  but 
the  houseless  poor  their  offices  and  honors  will  be  transferred.  At 
first  the  idea  of  removing  the  poor  costermongers,  porters,  coal- 


326 


THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 


heavers,  fish,  snail,  and  tripe  venders  so  far  from  their  old  slums 
and  haunts  seemed  unpractical  and  even  cruel ;  but  having-  revisited 
those  haunts  and  the  skimmers  in  their  new  homes,  seen  the  shops 
opened  on  the  ground  floors  of  the  new  dwellings,  turned  on  the 
water-tap  which  is  in  each  room  or  apartment,  inspected  the  closets 
which  are  perfectly  scentless,  I  can  only  express  a  feeling  of  thank- 
fulness that  the  axe  has  been  laid  at  the  root  of  the  tree  at  last. 


■JfiJI 


Whe'e   Street  Arabs  Sleep. 

It  is  not  only  a  question  of  health  and  longevity — the  poor  peo- 
ple in  the  fondaci  cellars  and  underground  dens  were  entirely  at 
the  mercy  of  the  camorra  which,  however  the  police  and  the  au- 
thorities may  flatter  themselves,  has  never  been  killed  and  very 
slightly  scotched.  These  poor  creatures,  crowded  in  one  spot,  are 
the  terrified  victims  of  the  camoi'rlst,  that  "  unclean  beast  of  dishon- 
est idleness  "  of  yore,  who  now  has  cleaned  himself  up  a  bit,  but  is 


J 


THE  POOH  IN  NAPLES  327 

as  bestial,  dishonest,  and  idle  as  ever.  With  the  dispersion  of  the 
skimmers  and  the  allotment  to  each  of  a  room  or  rooms  with  doors 
that  lock,  and  windows  that  open,  the  camorrlsifi  reign  is  over, 
especially  as  the  society,  though  compelled  to  charge  only  five  lire 
per  room,  has  no  help  from  the  municipality  in  collecting-  rents, 
and  therefore  selects  for  porters  (concierge)  men  who  attend  to 
their  interests  and  not  to  those  of  the  camorra. 

What  is  now  wanted  in  the  new  quarters  are  infant  schools,  ele- 
mentary and  industrial  schools,  of  all  of  which  Naples  possesses 
some  of  the  most  perfect  that  I  have  ever  seen  in  Italy  or  in  Eng- 
land. Naples,  a  city  of  contrasts  in  all  respects,  is  especially  so 
in  the  management  of  her  public  and  private  institutions. 

Of  charitable  institutions  belonging  to  the  poor  by  right,  Na- 
ples has  enoug-h  and  to  spare,  with  two  hundred  edifices  and  over 
eight  or  ten  millions  of  annual  income.  But  these  edifices  and  this 
income  serve  every  interest  save  that  of  the  poor.  Administrators, 
priests,  governors,  electors,  deputies,  councillors  and  their  clients 
get  thus  the  lion's  share.  The  Albergo  dei  Poveri,  with  an  income 
of  over  a  million  and  a  half,  maintains  a  family  of  employees  ex- 
ceeding seven  hundred,  while  the  poor,  many  of  whom  are  merely 
proteges  of  the  rich,  have  dwindled  down  to  two  thousand.  The 
children  have  scarcely  a  shirt  to  change  ;  the  school  for  deaf  and 
dumb  boys  has  been  so  neglected  for  years  that  only  of  late  has  the 
new  director  been  able  to  form  a  class.  The  girls  in  charge  of 
WxQfiglie  delta  carita,  French  nuns,  are  kept  so  hard  at  Avork  at  em- 
broidery and  flower  making  that  their  health  is  ruined,  and  the  ag- 
glomeration of  old  men  and  women,  young  boys  and  girls  under 
one  roof  is  by  no  means  conducive  to  order,  discipline,  or  morality. 
One  "  governor "  succeeds  another.  One  sells  5,000  square  me- 
tres of  land  to  a  building  society  for  eleven  lire  per  metre,  at  a 
time  when  in  certain  portions  of  the  cit}'^  land  is  worth  three  and 
four  hundred  lire.  His  successor  brings  an  action  against  the  pur- 
chaser and  the  costs  are  enormous.  Another  has  farmed  out  the 
rents  to  some  collector  at  far  too   low  a  price ;  another  action  is 


328  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

brought.  The  chemist  is  proved  to  have  substituted  flour  for  qui- 
nine, Dover's  powders  without  opium,  and  is  suspended.  But  the 
corpo  delicto,  i.e.,  the  analyzed  medicines,  have  disappeared  ;  the 
chemist  will  come  off  triumphant  and  the  Albergo  dei  Poveri  will 
have  to  pay  costs  and  damages,  and  possibly  to  meet  an  action  for 
libel.  Of  course  there  is  a  deficit  in  the  budget ;  and  this  will  con- 
tinue to  increase,  whoever  may  be  governor,  as  long  as  the  system 
remains  and  as  long  as  places  are  created  for  proteges  of  Senator 
A,  Deputy  B,  or  Counsellor  C. 

The  enormous  hospital  of  the  Incurahili,  where  also  a  royal  corn- 
missionary  presides,  was  found  to  be  in  a  most  deplorable  state. 
The  number  of  patients  reduced  from  one  thousand  to  seven  hun- 
dred ;  the  meat  of  inferior  quality  to  that  j)rescribed.  Despite  the 
25,000  lire  which  appear  in  the  budg-et  for  linen,  there  were  not 
sufficient  sheets  to  change  the  beds  of  the  sick,  yet  there  was  an  ac- 
cumulated deficit  of  869,030  lire,  and  for  last  year  alone  200,000  lire. 
As  the  present  special  commissioners  have  really  reduced  the  ex- 
penditure, while  increasing  the  number  of  patients  admitted,  dimin- 
ished the  enormous  number  of  servants,  and  by  supplying  food  to 
those  on  guard  deprived  them  of  the  temptation  to  steal  the  rations 
of  the  sick  ;  as  they  have  thoroughly  cleansed  the  hospital  from 
garret  to  cellar,  constructed  water-closets,  etc.,  we  hope  they  will 
be  allowed  to  remain  in  ofiice  sufiicient  time  to  render  a  return  to 
former  abuses  impossible. 

Some  improvement  there  is,  w^e  notice,  in  the  Foundling  Hos- 
pital, which  was  in  a  wretched  state,  the  mortality  among  infants 
amounting  to  ninety -five  and  even  one  hundred  per  cent.  The  sys- 
tem adopted  of  giving  them  out  to  be  nursed  by  poor  families  in 
the  city  and  country  round  Naples,  answers  admirably,  as  the  poor 
people  here  regard  them  as  the  "  Virgin's  children  ""—figlie  delta 
Madonna.  Still  there  are  over  three  hundred  big,  lazy  girls  in  the 
establishment  who  ought  to  have  been  put  out  to  earn  their  living 
long  ago. 

The  Casa  di  Maternita,  added  to  the  establishment,  is  admirably 


THE  POOR  IN  NAPLES 


321) 


conducted,  and  the  secrets  of  the  poor  girls  or  women  Avho  demand 
admission  are  religiously  kept. 

The  famous  con- 
vent of  the  Sepolte  Vive 
of  Suor  Orsola  Be- 
niucasa,  which  created 
such  a  sensation  in 
the  newspapers  a  year 
since,  is  now  complete- 
ly reformed  ;  the  few 
surviving  nuns  are 
pensioned  oif  and  al- 
lotted a  residence  in 
some  distant  portion 
of  the  enormous  edi- 
fice, while  the  income 
of  100,000  lire  is  ap- 
plied to  the  education 
of  poor  children.  There 
are  also  classes  for  the 
children  of  parents 
who  can  pay,  a  normal 
school,  and  a  kinder- 
garten. 

As  the  reformed 
law  of  charitable  in- 
stitutions is  only  two 
years  old,  and  the 
government  and  mu- 
nicipal authorities  are 
doing  their  best  to  apply  it  in  spite  of  the  clergy  and  the  vested 
interests  of  innumerable  loafers,  we  may  hope  that  in  time  to  come 
the  poor  and  the  poor  alone  may  profit  by  this  their  own  and  only 
wealth.     How  such  wealth  may  be  profitably  applied  is  shown  by 


■S-KX 


-frtr 


Interior  of  a  Poor  Quarter. 


330  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

the  numerous  establishments  founded  and  maintained  by  private 
charity.  The  chiklren's  hosi^ital,  Osp'itale  Lina,  founded  and  main- 
tained by  the  well-known  philanthropist,  Duchessa  Ravaschiera,  is 
a  perfect  gem.  There  are  eighty  beds,  each  occupied  by  a  poor 
child  for  whom  a  surgical  operation  is  necessary.  All  the  first  sur- 
geons and  doctors  of  Naples  give  their  services.  The  Duchess 
herself,  who  founded  the  hospital  in  memory  of  her  only  daiighter, 
Lina,  superintends  it  in  person,  often  living-  and  sleeping  there, 
and  the  delight  of  the  children  when  "  Mamma  Duchessa  "  enters 
the  wards  is  very  touching-. 

The  asylum  for  girls  orphaned  during  the  cholera  of  1884  is  an- 
other example  of  how  much  can  be  done,  with  comparatively  small 
sums,  under  personal  supervision.  Here  285  boarders  and  250  day 
scholars  are  maintained  at  a  cost  of  little  over  100,000  francs,  sub- 
scribed by  individuals,  the  Bank  of  Naples,  the  Chamber  of  Com- 
merce, etc.  All  the  children  frequent  the  elementary  schools,  and 
are  each  taught  a  trade,  dressmaking,  plain  needlework,  making 
and  mending- — m.agUeria  (machine-knitted  vests),  stockings,  petti- 
coats, etc.,  artificial  flowers,  embroidery,  and  lace  making.  At  the 
Exposition  of  Palermo  there  was  a  beautiful  collection  of  the  w^ork 
done  by  the  girls  of  this  school ;  we  could  wish  that  they  were  not 
compelled  to  toil  so  many  hours  a  day,  but  necessity  knows  no  law, 
and  the  administration  of  the  superintendent.  Baron  Tosti,  is  above 
all  praise.  There  are  two  educational  and  industrial  schools  for 
boys  in  Naples  which  may  serve  as  models  to  the  other  provinces 
of  Italy  and  to  other  nations. 

The  Listifufo  Casanovas,"^  for  boys  who  have  attended  the  infant 
schools,  was  founded  in  1862  by  Alfonzo  della  Valle  di  Casanova. 
Elementary  schools  and  Avorkshops  Avere  opened  under  the  same 
roof  and  carried  on  privately  with  great  success  until  1880 ;  then 

*  All  American  lady,  well  known  in  Boston  for  her  work  in  prison  reform,  said  to 
us,  as  we  were  taking  her  over  these  schools  ;  "  We  have  nothing  so  good  as  this  in 
America." 


THE  POOR  IN  NAPLES  331 

recognized  as  a  Coiyo  Morale  by  the  g-overnment,  Avliicli  assigned  a 
large  building  with  open  spaces  for  gymnastics  and  recreation,  sur- 
rounded by  eleven  new  workshops.  Industrial  schools  generalh' 
are  a  failure,  owing  to  the  expense  incurred  by  the  payment  of  di- 
rectors of  Avorkshops,  the  purchase  of  machines,  tools,  instruments, 
and  raw  material.  In  this  establishment  the  workshop  alone  is 
given  rent  free  to  the  master  —  blacksmiths,  carpenters,  tailors, 
boot-makers,  brass-workers,  cameo,  lava  workers,  workers  in  bronze, 
sculptors,  ebonists,  wood-carvers,  and  printers — with  whom  a  regu- 
lar contract  is  signed,  for  a  certain  number  of  years,  by  which,  on 
"  November  1st,  directors  A,  B,  and  C  shall  open  a  workshop,  fur- 
nishing it  with  all  such  machines  and  instruments  as  are  necessary 
for  carrying  on  and  teaching  his  trade  to  a  fixed  number  of  pupils." 
In  case  of  bankruptcy  the  master  must  at  once  quit  the  workshop. 
The  boys  for  the  first  two  years,  that  is  until  they  are  nine,  attend 
the  elementary  schools  exclusively  ;  then  they  or  their  parents 
choose  their  trade,  and  as  soon  as  their  work  becomes  profitable, 
they  are  paid  a  certain  sum  fixed  by  the  master-workman  and  the 
director  of  the  establishment,  who  receives  the  pay  of  the  boys 
weekly  and  gives  half  to  them,  half  to  the  establishment.  At  first 
the  boys  were  compelled  to  place  all  their  portion  in  postal  savings 
banks,  but  as  all  are  day  scholars  and  are  housed  and  fed  by  their 
parents,  it  was  found  that  these,  being  too  poor  to  maintain  them, 
removed  them  from  the  school  before  they  were  proficient  in  their 
respective  trades.  From  the  report  up  to  March  6,  1892,  we  find 
559  "  present,"  104  pupils  who  had  quitted  the  establishment  as 
skilled  workmen,  all  of  whom  are  eagerly  sought  by  the  directors 
of  workshops  in  this  city.  The  income  of  the  institute  does  not  ex- 
ceed 72,000  francs,  of  which  22,000  is  paid  to  school-masters  and 
servants  ;  the  remainder  goes  in  buildings,  prizes  to  the  pupils,  etc. 
The  Casanova  opera  also  has  a  beautiful  department  at  the  Exposi- 
tion at  Palermo,  where  albums  and  pamphlets  show  its  whole  his- 
tory from  the  beginning. 

A  similar  institution,  much  rougher,  but  even  more  meritorious, 


332 


THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 


is  the  working-  school  in  the  ex-convent  of  S.  Antonio  a  Tarsia.  The 
boys  collected  here  are  the  real  waifs  and  straj-s  taken  from  the 
streets— gutter-sparrows,  literally.  The  founder  is  Giovanni  Flor- 
enzano,  ex-member  of  parliament  and  {assessore)  officer  of  public  in- 
struction in  the  municipality  of  Naples.  It  is  conducted  on  the 
same  i^rinciples  as  that  of  Casanova,  but,  alas  !  not  with  equal  funds. 


One  of  the   New  Blocks  of  Tenements   in   Naples. 


There  is  a  workshop  for  carpenters,  ebony-workers,  wood-carvers, 
and  gilders,  for  blacksmiths,  workers  in  bronze,  for  the  manufact- 
ure of  iron  and  steel  instruments,  and  a  large  printing'-office.  The 
boys  gathered  there  number  from  two  hundred  and  fifty  to  three 
hundred.  Unfortunately  the  impecuniosity  of  the  municipality  has 
deprived  this  school  of  four  thousand  francs  annually. 

Signor  Florenzano,  who  has  done  much  for  popular  instruction 
in  Naples,  in  1883  oj^ened  a  Sunday-school  for  recreation  in  a  large 


THE  POOR  IN  NAPLES  3^3 

hall  with  a  pretty  g-arc^en  in  the  Vico  Cupa  a  Chiara,  where  seven 
hiiudred  children,  all  under  separate  patronage  of  benevolent  men 
and  women,  were  clothed,  and  on  every  Sundaj^  taught  choral  sing- 
ing, gymnastics,  and  military  exercises.  Alas  !  both  the  hall  and 
garden  have  been  demolished  by  the  pickaxe  of  a  building-  society, 
and  the  children  are  dispersed.  This  idea  of  placing-  every  boy  in 
the  working  school  under  the  protection  of  some  well-to-do  person 
is  excellent.  A  few  more  such  industrial  schools  as  these  of  Casa- 
nova and  Tarsia  would  be  the  making  of  the  next  generation  of 
Neapolitan  boys.  These  private  institutions  also  form  a  striking 
contrast  with  the  so-called  reformatories,  penitentiaries,  and  cor- 
rectional establishments  with  which  Italy,  and  especially  Naples, 
abounds.  In  three  of  these  which  we  visited  we  may  say,  without 
fear  of  contradiction,  that  there  are  no  reforms,  and  no  penitents  in 
any  of  them.  In  one  of  these,  whei-e  each  boy  costs  three  francs 
per  day,  discoJi,  merely  naughty  boys  and  boys  sent  by  their  own 
parents  to  be  disciplined,  are  mixed  up  with  culprits  who  have  been 
condemned  once,  twice,  and  thrice,  for  whom  "  paternal  discipline  " 
is  a  derision,  who  break  down  the  doors  of  their  cells,  kick  the 
jailors,  and  yet  are  fed  on  coffee  and  milk  in  the  morning-,  meat  at 
mid-day,  soup  at  night,  and  wine  three  times  a  Aveek. 

We  have  not  space  for  even  a  brief  reference  to  prison  discipline 
in  Italy,  but  we  may  say  as  a  g-eneral  rule  that  delinquents  and 
criminals  alone  are  housed,  fed,  clothed,  and  cared  for  by  the  State  ; 
that  the  greater  the  crime,  the  more  hardened  the  criminal,  the 
better  does  he  lodge,  dress,  and,  till  yesterday,  fare ! 

We  must  not  close  this  story  of  the  poor  in  Naples  without  a 
reference  to  two  other  institutions  dedicated  to  the  poor  alone. 
The  one  is  the  school  for  the  blind  at  Caravaggio,  which,  Avith  the 
boarding-house  and  school  founded  by  Lady  Strachen,  offer  a  pleas- 
ant contrast  to  the  blind  institute  at  S.  Giuseppe,  dependent  on 
the  Alhergo  del  Poveri.  The  blind  institute,  now  called  Prince  of 
Naples,  founded  by  the  brothers  Martucelli,  is  admirable.      The 


334  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT   CITIES 

blind  boj^s.and  girls  read,  write,  print,  and  play  yarious  instru- 
ments, are  shoe-makers,  carpenters,  basket  and  Venetian  blind-mak- 
ers. The  correspondent  of  the  London  Times,  on  seeing  the  depart- 
ment of  this  school  at  the  Palermo  Exhibition,  could  hardly  believe 
that  the  work  was  done  by  blind  children. 

The  Froebel  Institute,  now  called  the  Victor  Emanuel  Interna- 
tional Institute,  was  founded  by  Julia  Salis  Schwabe,  an  enthusias- 
tic admirer  of  Garibaldi,  who,  in  1860,  appealed  to  women  to  open 
popular  schools  for  the  education  of  the  poor  in  the  southern  prov- 
inces. Professor  Villari  took  it  under  his  especial  jDrotection,  and 
the  old  medical  college  at  S.  Aniello  was  assigned  for  the  purpose, 
so  that  poor  girls  taken  from  the  streets  could  be  housed,  fed,  and 
educated.  At  present  the  boarding-school  has  been  much  reduced, 
but  the  day,  infant,  and  elementary  schools  are  simply  perfect. 
Side  by  side  with  the  classes  for  poor  children,  are  paying  classes 
for  the  well-to-do,  who  are  taught  to  find  pleasure  in  bringing 
clothes  and  boots  for  their  poorer  companions.  The  "  haves"  pay 
seven  lire  a  month,  which  suffices  to  give  a  capital  soup  every  day 
to  about  four  hundred  children  of  the  "  have  nots."  The  establish- 
ment serves  also  as  a  training-school  for  teachers  of  this  Froebelian, 
or  as  it  ought  to  be  called,  Pestalozzian  system,  certainly  the  most 
admirable  yet  invented  for  keeping  children  bright,  happy,  and 
active,  and  while  placing  no  undue  strain  on  their  intellectual 
faculties,  disciplining  and  preparing  them  for  the  age  when  these 
can  be  exercised.  It  is  a  school  such  as  this  which  I  long  to  see 
Oldened  in  the  new  quarters  where  the  children  taken  from  the 
fondaci  cellars  and  slums  in  general  are  now  housed.  Very  dismal 
they  look,  shut  up  in  the  respective  rooms,  seated  upon  the  window- 
sills,  longing  for  the  open  street,  of  hasso  porto,  the  filthy  court- 
yards, where  there  were  goats  and  rats  to  play  with,  any  amount  of 
dirt  for  the  "  makin'  o'  mud  pies,"  and  the  chance  of  a  stray  pizza  or 
frazaglia,  the  gift  of  kindly  foodmongers.  Now,  of  course  the  j^or- 
ters  forbid  the  leaving  open  the  doors  of  the  "  aj^artments,"  the 
squatting  on  staircases,  the  congregating  in  the  courtyards  where 


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THE  POOR  IN  NAPLES  337 

no  "waslipools"   have  been  erected,    "expressly  to   prevent  the 
skimmers  from  reducing-  the  new  tenements  to  the  state  of  the  okl 
fondacir    All  this  is  highly  proper,  but  very  forlorn  for  the  little 
ones. 

B}^  degrees  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  the  inhabitants  of  Naples,  rich 
and  poor,  will  be  induced  to  go  and  live  in  the  suburbs.  At  present 
there  is  a  population  which  has  increased  from  a  little  over  four 
hundred  thousand  to  nearly  six  hundred  thousand,  crowded  over 
eight  square  kilometres  ;  deduct  the  space  occupied  by  churches 
and  public  buildings,  and  there  is  little  more  than  seven  square 
kilometres.  And  this  is  the  first  greatest  misfortune  for  the  poor 
in  Naples.  The  problenj  of  housing  them  solved,  it  Avill  be,  after 
all,  but  the  alpha  of  the  business.  There  is  neither  "  bread  nor 
work  "  for  the  masses,  who  increase  and  multiply  like  rabbits  in  a 
warren.  On  this  ijoiut  they  are  exti^melj^  sensitive.  Finding  a 
lad  of  eigliteen,  for  wliom  we  were  trying  to  get  work,  just  married 
to  a  girl  of  sixteen,  we  ventured  to  remonstrate,  asking  how  they 
were  to  keep  their  children  ?  "  Volete  anche  spegnere  la  razza  dei 
2)ezze}iti  " — "  Do  you  want  even  to  extinguisk  tke  race  of  misera- 
bles  ?  "  tke  kusband  asked,  indignantly. 

Hitkerto  tke  surplus  population  of  tke  provinces  kas  swarmed 
off  to  Brazil  and  tke  United  States.  From  tke  former  country 
many  of  tkem  return  witk  sad  tales  of  wkole  families  swept  away  by 
yellow  fever,  of  kard  labor  lioeing  coffee  witk  insufficient  remuner- 
ation, and  tke  impossibility  of  obtaining  proper  nouriskmeut. 
And  now  comes  tke  natural  but  sad  report,  from  tke  United  States 
accentuated  by  Mr.  Ckandler,  in  tke  Forum,  tkat  republican  citizens 
are  tired  of  tke  poor,  meek,  feckless,  imclean  offshoots  of  royal 
courts  and  aristocratic  institutions  who  extract  a  livelihood  from 
New  York's  ash-barrels  ;  who  contract  for  the  right  to  trim  the  ash- 
scoics  before  they  are  sent  out  to  sea,  whereas  a  few  years  ago  men 
were  paid  a  dollar  and  a  kalf  a  day  for  tke  said  "trimming;"  who 
keep  the  stale  beer  dives  and  pig  together  in  the  "  Bend ; "  who  used 
at  home  to  receive  but  five  cents  per  day  and  "  wittals  "  that  dogs 
23 


338  THE  POOR  IN  ORE  AT  CITIES 

refuse,  iiiiclersell  tlieir  labor  abroad,  and  thus  lower  tlie  wages  of  the 
natives. 

We  cannot  wonder  that  the  cry  is :  "  Send  them  back — here  they 
are  encumbrances." 

But  when  this  safety-valve  is  closed  some  new  outlet  will  have 
to  be  found  to  prevent  an  explosion,  and  the  "  upper  third  "  will  do 
well  to  devise  the  ways  and  means  while  yet  there  is  time. 


AGENCIES  FOE  THE  PEEYENTION  OF  PAUPERISM 

By  OSCAR  CRAIG  * 

LATE  PRESIDENT  OF  THE  NEVS'  YORK   STATE   BOARD   OF  CHARITIES. 

Poverty  and  Pauperism — The  Four  Classes  op  Our  Population — Processes 
WHICH  Tend  to  Increase  Pauperism — Pauper  Immigration — Laws  to 
Control  It— The  Head  Moneys — The  Return  op  Alien  Paupers— The 
Big  System  op  Out  Relief — Organized  Charity — As  an  Agent  in  the 
Prevention  op  Pauperism — The  Charity  Organization  Society  of  New 
York — Other  Agencies  of  Benevolence — Church  Charities — The  Jews 
— Treatment  op  the  Insane  Poor — Management  op  the  County  Poor- 
houses— The  Care  op  Dependent  Children — Reformatories — The  Dis- 
cipline OF  Convicts — The  Question  op  Heredity — Mr.  Brace's  Testi- 
mony— The  State  Charities  Aid  Association — The  Factory  Law\ 

POYEKTY  and  pauperism  are  words  which  shoukl  not  be  used 
as  equivalents,  or  even  as  synonyms.  The  terms  stand  for 
thing-s  or  thoughts  which  in  some  respects  are  antithesis. 
An  individual  may  be  both  a  poor  person  and  a  pauper ;  but  the 
majority  of  the  poor,  when  not  demoralized  by  unwise  interference 
or  neg-lect,  are  neither  purposely  nor  actually  in  the  attitude  of 
pauperism,  which  is  that  of  dependence  on  public  or  private  char- 

*  The  Hon.  Oscar  Craig,  President  of  the  New  York  State  Board  of  Charities 
(whose  persistent  and  sacrificing  efforts  for  the  poor  b}''  scientilic,  as  well  as  linmani- 
tarian,  methods,  have  been  increasingly  acknowledged  since  his  untimely  death  in 
January,  1894),  wrote  the  chapter  herewith  published  in  the  spring  of  1893.  A  part 
of  it,  very  much  condensed,  was  published  in  Scribner's  Magazine  for  July,  1893,  but 
the  present  is  the  first  publication  in  its  entirety  of  one  of  the  last  and  most  mature 
expressions  of  the  views  of  a  man  who  spoke  with  the  highest  authority  by  reason 
of  his  extensive  experience  and  knowledge,  as  well  as  by  his  remarkable  clarity  of 
judgment.     Mr.  Craig  intended  further  to  revise  this  paper  for  book  publication. 


340  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

ity  in  the  form  of  either  indoor  or  out-relief;  vhile  a  large  minor- 
ity, if  not  a  major  part,  of  paupers  misrepresent  or  suppress  either 
infrequently  their  accumulations  of  property,  or  more  often  their 
ability  to  work,  which  is  their  capital,  and  so  pass  as  poor  persons 
only  hj  their  false  pretences  or  concealments. 

Another  distinction  must  be  made.  The  productive  classes 
should  not  be  identified  with  even  "  the  poor."  The  worker  who 
toils  continuously  and  effectually,  such  as  the  parish  priest  or  min- 
ister of  the  gospel  or  teacher  in  the  rural  district,  the  farmer,  the 
artisan,  or  the  humble  laborer,  may  be  in  destitute  circumstances,  or 
in  distress  of  desire  to  supply  the  higher  wants  of  his  family  with 
the  small  means  at  his  command ;  but  such  workers  make  the  world 
rich  in  spiritual  worth  and  material  wealth,  and  accumulate  the  po- 
tential forces,  moral  and  physical,  which,  being  liberated  from 
time  to  time,  lead  to  the  progress  of  the  world.  They  are,  in  such 
points,  differentiated  from  the  simply  indigent  or  worthy  popr,  who, 
though  patient,  enduring,  suffering  uncomplainingly,  striving  to 
avoid  the  dependence  of  pauperism,  and  if  defeated  renewing  the 
struggle  for  an  honest  living,  are  handicapped  in  the  race  by  some 
incumbrance  or  inefficiency,  proceeding  from  incomplete  corre- 
spondence with  their  environment,  or  imperfect  organism,  or  de- 
fective energj^  or  vitality ;  and  who  (while  deserving  the  favors  of 
the  strong  to  "help  them  to  help  themselves,"  and  perhaps  more 
the  favorites  of  heaven  than  many  who  succeed  better  in  the  strug- 
gle for  existence  on  earth)  are  nevertheless  not  energetic  factors  in 
industrial  activities  or  in  the  performance  of  duties  to  society. 

A  distinct  set  remains  to  be  mentioned,  viz.:  the  opulent  who 
are  not  rich  by  the  results  of  their  own  industry  for  the  moral  or 
material  ends  of  society,  and  who,  neglecting  their  social  obliga- 
tions, suffer  atrophy  of  virile  and  moral  powers,  and,  like  paupers, 
live  on  the  world's  surplus  without  adding  to  it  or  giving  any  fair 
equivalent  for  their  maintenance. 

These  four  categories  may  thus  be  arranged  in  two  divisions : 
first — the  poor  and  laorkhig  classes,  both  of  which  are  entitled  to  our 


AGENCIES  FOR   THE  PREVENTION  OF  PAUPERISM         341 

respect  for  different  sorts  of  praiseworthy  qualities  ;  and,  second — 
the  idle  inch  and  the  pauper,  neither  of  which  is  worthy  of  our  praise. 
Eliminating-  from  consideration  the  affluent  who  lead  useless  lives, 
as  of  no  account,  we  have  the  remaining-  unprofitable  class  of  the 
second  division  contrasted  with  the  two  estimable  classes  of  the 
first  division. 

Observing-  these  distinctions,  it  is  obvious  that  any  principle  or 
policy  which  leads  toward  the  prevention  of  pauperism,  conduces 
pro  tanto  to  the  protection  of  both  the  poor  and  the  producing- 
classes.  To  defend  the  workers,  as  members  of  the  social  organism 
most  entitled  to  honor,  is  to  shield  them  from  unjust  taxes  levied 
to  support  persons  who  are  able  but  unwilling  to  work,  or  to  main- 
tain in  comfort  and  comparative  luxury,  to  a  degree  relatively 
higher  than  the  averag-e  families  of  tax-payers  can  enjoy,  even 

*  urn   . 

those  who  are  willing  but  unable  to  work.  To  preserve  the  poor 
from  injury  is  to  guard  not  merely  their  physical  welfare  but  also 
their  moral  well-being,  and  to  ward  off  the  forces  that  break  down 
their  manhood  and  thus  tend  to  disintegrate  society. 

To  prevent  pauperism  is  to  go  before  the  processes  which  lead  to 
it,  and  to  anticipate  the  causes  which,  if  not  counteracted,  tend,  by 
successive  steps,  to  make  the  productive  and  independent  worker 
lapse  into  indigence,  and  the  indigent  to  descend  into  dependence. 
Preventive  measures  are  therefore  better  than  any  and  all  means 
that  are  merely  repressive  or  remedial. 

The  work  of  prevention  is  so  imperfect  in  most  communities, 
while  the  processes  for  the  propagation  of  pauperism  are  so  suc- 
cessful in  many  countries  of  Europe,  that  there  is  imposed  on  pub- 
lic authorities  in  the  United  States  the  duty  of  exclusion  or  expul- 
sion of  all  immigrants  who  may  be  infected  with  this  vice  or  disease. 
This  proscriptive  duty  devolves  on  charity  administration  in  the 
State  of  New  York  more  than  elsewhere  in  America,  for  the  reason 
that  its  territory  includes  the  principal  port  of  entry,  and  therefore 
naturally  returns  the  worst  elements,  while  most  of  the  able-bodied 


342  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT   CITIES 

and  the  riglit-minded  pass  into  the  interior  States,  where  they  be- 
come worthy  and  valuable  citizens  of  the  Kepublic. 

It  may  be  sugg"ested  that  the  return  of  such  immigrants,  who 
have  effected  a  landing  by  eluding  the  agencies  of  the  Federal  Gov- 
ernment, does  not  go  to  the  true  end  of  the  prevention  of  this  dis- 
ease, or  even  its  reduction  or  relief  in  the  world  at  large.  But  this 
view  is  not  so  broad  as  at  first  sight  it  seems  to  be,  in  subordinating 
patriotism  to  philanthropy,  and  is  not  so  comprehensive  as  that 
which  justifies  the  necessary  means  for  the  preservation  of  the  so- 
cial organisms  and  life  of  America,  with  their  potential  advantages 
and  benefits  to  the  whole  world.  There  is  no  rooin  for  doubt  that  im- 
migration, if  unrestricted,  loould  soon  change  from  lohat  now  is  mostly 
good,  to  that  ivhich  would  he  mainly  had,  if  not  in  actual  ratio  of  num- 
hers,  at  least  in  real  irroportionfif  x>ower. 

It  is  difficult  for  Americans,  in  their  magnanimity,  to  realize  or 
fully  believe,  however  realistic  may  be  the  story,  that  government 
and  other  agencies  in  Europe  have  deliberately  and  successfully 
conducted  their  diseased,  filthy,  vicious,  and  criminal  dregs  of  so- 
ciety, by  ocean  steamers,  as  sewers,  into  cesspools  made  of  the  ports 
•  and  towns  of  the  United  States,  But  such  is  the  fact  established 
by  evidence  convincing  and  cumulative.  The  late  Dr.  Anderson, 
President  of  the  Rochester  University,  and  member  of  the  State 
Board  of  Charities  for  the  Seventh  Judicial  District,  submitted  to 
the  board  a  paper  dated  January  12,  1875,  which  cites  admissions 
made  by  publicists  and  other  authorities  abroad,  showing  this  fact. 
And  it  has  been  confirmed  by  proofs  annuall}^  gathered  since  the 
year  1873,  by  the  Secretary  of  the  State  Board  of  Charities,  and  by 
the  findings  of  the  Board  made  in  its  annual  reports  to  the  Legis- 
lature. 

The  State  of  New  York  has  sought  relief  in  various  enactments. 
Chapter  277  of  the  laws  of  1831,  and  chapter  230  of  the  laws  of  1833, 
were  practically  inoperative,  on  account  of  the  difficulty  of  proving 
the  intent  or  knowledge  of  the  master  of  the  vessel,  or  other  per- 
son, introducing  the  convict  or  the  pauper  into  the  State.     The  act 


AGENCIES  FOR   THE  PREVENTION  OF  PAUPERISM:        343 

passed  IVLay  15,  1847,  entitled  "  An  Act  Concerning  Passeng-ers  in 
Vessels  Coming-  to  the  United  States,"  and  the  amendatory  and  sup- 
plementary acts,  created  commissioners  of  immigration  and  amon^- 
other  things  made  the  consignees,  masters,  agents,  and  owners  of 
vessels  liable  for  the  support  of  immigrants  who  were  "  lunatic, 
idiot,  deaf,  dumb,  blind,  infirm,  maimed,  over  sixty  years  old, 
widows  having  families,  or  for  any  cause  unable  to  support  them- 
selves," provided  that  such  liability  might  be  discharged  by  paying 
a  commutation  tax  of  two  dollars  and  fifty  cents  2>er  capita  on  all 
immigrants  within  twenty-four  hours  after  leaving  the  vessel.  The 
result,  of  course,  was  that  the  commutation  money  was  always  as- 
sessed on  the  immigrant  at  his  place  of  departure.  The  law  directed 
the  commissioners  to  pay,  from  such  money,  the  cost  of  maintaining 
such  immigrants  as  became  a  public  charge  within  the  State,  but 
not  beyond  the  period  of  five  years  from  landing.  This  statutory 
indemnity  was  inadequate,  on  account  of  the  short  term  of  mainten- 
ance and  of  the  small  sum  of  "  head  money,"  by  reason  of  which  the 
commissioners,  though  restricted  by  the  five  years'  clause,  incurred 
debts  which  their  resources  would  not  cancel.  While  about  nine 
thousand  foreigners  were  thus  maintained  from  such  commutation 
money,  between  the  years  1868  and  1873  inclusive — a  period  just 
prior  to  the  first  subsequent  legislation  hereafter  mentioned — there 
were  foreign-born  inmates  of  county  poor-houses  and  city  alms- 
houses in  the  State,  during  the  same  six  j^ears,  to  an  annual  average 
of  thirty-five  thousand  to  forty  thousand,  being  about  two-thirds  of 
the  total  population  of  these  houses,  though  foreign-born  persons 
were  oulv  about  one-third  of  the  total  census  of  the  State.  Another 
inevitable  limitation  iu  the  law  was  that  it  could  cover  only  the 
ports  of  entry  within  its  jurisdiction,  while  the  classes  of  defective 
and  dependent  persons  provided  against  were  in  large  numbers 
shipped  to  Canadian  ports,  and  thence  forwarded  over  the  border, 
with  their  destinations  practically  fixed,  as  if  ticketed,  to  the  i:)oor- 
liouses  and  almshouses  of  the  counties  and  cities  of  the  State. 

This  statiite  provoked  comments  from  jurists  on  the  question  of 


344  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

its  validity.  Finally,  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  Uuited  States  (in 
the  case  of  Henderson  et  at.  v.  Mayor  of  New  York  et  al.,  decided  in 
October,  1875)  declared  that  the  provisions  in  the  law  for  levying 
the  tax  on  immigrants,  and  the  penalties  leading  to  it,  were  in  reg- 
ulation of  commerce,  and  therefore  in  violation  of  the  Federal  Con- 
stitution. 

After  this  decision,  cutting  off  the  inflow  of  the  "  head  money," 
the  unnaturalized  paupers  who  had  floated  on  the  currents  of  immi- 
gration and  had  become  moored  by  our  charity  cables  under  tlie 
five  years'  clause,  were  supported  by  the  Commissioners  of  Immigra- 
tion on  Ward's  Island,  from  apjjropriations  by  the  Legislature  of 
the  State  in  the  years  1876  to  1883,  amounting  to  $1,140,500,  and  on 
credit  in  county  poor-houses,  city  almshouses,  incorporated  hos- 
pitals, orphan  asylums,  and  other  charitable  institutions,  in  the 
further  amount  of  $105,008.96,  which  is  a  debt  against  the  State  to 
be  paid  from  the  proceeds  of  the  sale  of  its  propert}^  on  Ward's 
Island  ;  and  also  from  a  loan  of  $200,000  made  in  1875  by  The  Emi- 
grants' Industrial  Savings  Bank  of  New  York,  secured  by  a  mort- 
gage on  the  Ward's  Island  property,  which  mortgage  was,  in  1882, 
assigned  to  the  Comptroller  of  the  State  as  an  investment  for  the 
United  States  Deposit  Fund,  thus  making  the  funny  combination 
of  a  mortgage  held  hj  the  State  on  its  own  property,  and  as  secu- 
rity for  trust  funds. 

But  these  various  sums  represent  only  a  small  part  of  the  defici- 
ency of  the  "  head  moneys,"  as  already  shown  by  reference  to  the 
ordinary  statistics  of  alien  paiiperism,  which  was  a  public  charge, 
not  on  the  State  at  large,  but  on  counties  and  cities.  The  proofs 
demonstrate  that  the  Supreme  Court,  in  cutting  off  the  commuta- 
tion contracts,  released  the  people  of  New  York  State  from  a  most 
destructive  and  deplorable  policy  of  inviting  foreign  convicts,  luna- 
tics, and  paupers  to  come,  with  the  implied  covenant  of  mainten- 
ance for  five  years  and  probably  for  life. 

At  the  time  of  this  decision  (1875),  there  Avas  no  National  statute 
on  the  subject.     Subsequently  Federal  Legislation  was  repeatedly 


> 


AGENCIES  FOR   THE  PREVENTION  OF  PAUPERISM         345 

invoked  by  the  State  Board  of  Charities  of  New  York,  in  corre- 
spondence with  the  State  Department  and  Senators  and  Kepresenta- 
tives  at  Washington,  and  with  the  National  Conference  of  Charities 
and  Correction,  and  the  boards  and  authorities  of  other  States. 
The  result  of  the  agitation  was  the  act  of  Congress  to  regulate  im- 
migration, passed  in  1882,  by  which  it  was  provided,  among  other 
things,  that  if  there  shall  be  found  among-  immigrants  on  vessels, 
"  any  convict,  lunatic,  idiot,  or  any  person  unable  to  take  care  of 
himself  or  herself  without  becoming  a  public  charge,  .  .  ,  such 
person  shall  not  be  permitted  to  land."  This  law  was  at  first  exe- 
cuted by  State  authorities,  but  is  now  enforced  by  Federal  officers, 
under  regulations  of  the  Secretary  of  the  Treasury  of  the  United 
States.  Assuming",  for  argument's  sake,  that  its  administration  has 
been  reasonably  diligent,  the  fact  remains  that  great  numbers  of 
alien  pauj^ers  annually  elude  the  Federal  examinations  and  obtain  a 
footing  on  our  shores,  perhaps  the  majority  of  whom  infest  the  city 
and  the  State  of  New  York. 

The  Legislature  of  the  State  has  provided  for  the  return  of  such 
foreign  and  unnaturalized  paupers  as  are  assisted  by  cities,  charita- 
ble societies,  and  other  agencies  to  emigrate,  after  the  expiration  of 
one  year  from  their  immig-ation  (which  is  the  period  limiting-  such 
action  by  officers  under  the  Federal  statute).  Under  the  Alien  Pau- 
per Law  of  New  York,  enacted  in  1880,  and  enforced  by  the  Chief 
Secretary  of  its  State  Board  of  Charities,  seventeen  hundred  and 
twenty -nine  of  these  assisted  immigrants,  most  of  them  being  rem- 
nants of  the  imperfect  execution  of  the  law  of  Congress,  have  been 
sent  to  their  homes  or  places  of  settlement,  by  through  tickets  to 
tliose  places  in  foreign  countries.  Such  returns  have  been  accom- 
plished in  humane  ways,  at  an  expense  of  less  than  twenty-two  dol- 
lars per  capita,  or  about  one-fifth  of  the  cost  of  maintenance  for  one 
year,  computed  at  two  dollars  per  week,  and  about  one  seventy - 
fifth  of  their  support  for  life,  on  an  estimate  of  expectation  of  fif- 
teen years,  which  is  verified  by  experience.  Thus,  at  a  total  expen- 
ditiire  of  $37,238.46,  the  expulsion  of  these  organized  invaders  of 


346  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

the  soil  of  New  York  has  saved  to  the  taxpayers  of  the  State  over 
$2,700,000. 

These  g-eneral  statistics  are  taken  from  the  annual  reports  of  the 
State  Board  of  Charities  to  the  Legislature  of  New  York  ;  and  the 
data  for  the  fiscal  year  closing  September  30,  1891,  are  as  follows : 

The  number  of  alien  jjaiipers  removed  by  the  Board  from  the  poor-houses, 
almshouses,  hosi^itals,  asylums,  and  other  charitable  institutions  of  this  State, 
and  sent  to  their  homes  in  different  countries  of  Europe,  during  the  fiscal  year 
ending  September  30,  1891,  jjursuant  to  chapter  549  of  the  laws  of  1880,  was  as 
follows  :  To  England,  38  ;  to  Ireland,  37 ;  to  Italy,  32  ;  to  Austria-Hungary, 
15  ;  to  Germany,  22  ;  to  Scotland,  13  ;  to  Sweden  and  Switzerland,  each,  5 ;  to 
Russia,  1 ;  and  to  Denmark,  2 — total,  173. 

The  examination  showed  that  they  were  deported  from  their  several  Euro- 
pean homes  to  this  country  by  the  following  agencies,  viz.:  By  cities  and  other 
municipalities,  34 ;  by  their  relatives,  guardians,  and  friends,  67  ;  by  various 
European  immigration  and  benevolent  societies,  49  ;  by  individuals  under  con- 
tract to  labor,  23 — total,  173. 

Preceding  the  Alien  Pauper  Law  was  the  State  Pauper  Law, 
enacted  June  7,  1873,  and  amended  in  1871  and  1875,  which  is  still 
in  full  force  and  eifect.  lender  its  provisions,  the  Secretary  of  the 
State  Board  of  Charities  returns  to  their  homes  or  friends  in  other 
States  of  the  Union  and  other  countries,  State  paupers,  that  is  to 
say,  dependent  persons  having  no  legal  settlement  by  sixty  days' 
residence  in  any  of  the  counties  of  the  State,  and  found  by  the 
Secretary  in  the  State  almshouses,  which  are  certain  county  poor- 
houses  selected  and  designated  by  the  State  Board  as  receptacles 
of  these  classes. 

The  report  of  the  State  Board  of  Charities,  transmitted  to  the 
Legislature  February  17,  1892,  shows  that  the  whole  number  of  per- 
sons committed  as  State  paupers  under  this  act  since  it  went  into 
effect,  October  22,  1873,  has  been  24,153,  viz. :  males,  18,813  ;  fe- 
males, 5,340.  Of  these  15,071  have  been  furnished  transportation 
to  their  homes  or  places  of  legal  settlement  in  other  States  and 
countries,  and  this  State  thus  released  of  the  burden  and  expense 


AGENCIES  FOB   THE  PREVENTION  OF  PAUPERISM         347 

of  their  support  and  care  tlirough  life.  To  have  maintained  these 
paupers  in  the  poor-houses  and  almshouses  of  the  State,  at  the  low 
rate  of  $100  each  per  annum,  would  have  involved  an  annual  outlay 
of  $1,507,100  ;  and,  calculating-  the  averag-e  duration  of  their  lives  at 
fifteen  years,  they  would,  in  the  end,  have  entailed  the  enormous 
expenditure  of  $22,G0G,500,  by  the  various  cities  and  counties  of  the 
State.  The  average  annual  expense  since  the  law  went  into  effect, 
for  maintenance,  supervision,  and  care,  and  for  the  removal  of 
15,071  helpless  paupers  to  their  homes  or  places  of  legal  settle- 
ment, has  been  less  than  $40,000,  or  about  $25  per  person. 

Every  invasion  of  the  delinquent,  diseased,  and  destitute  classes 
which  is  finally  turned  back  by  the  State  government,  if  not  at  first 
repelled  by  the  Federal  authorities,  deters  unnumbered  irruptions 
of  similar  sorts ;  by  making  such  experiments  of  vagrant  mendi- 
cants from  sister  States  uncertain,  or  rather  rendering'  it  almost 
certain  that  their  ventures  will  prove  unprofitable  and  unpleasant 
to  themselves  ;  and  by  discouraging-  benevolent  societies,  munici- 
palities, and  g-overnment  agencies  in  Europe,  from  their  bolder  at- 
tempts to  organize  such  immoral  incursions  into  our  territory. 
Thus,  the  State  Pauper  Law  and  the  Alien  Pauper  Law  have  not 
only  immediately  effected  an  actual  saving-  of  perhaps  $25,000,000  as 
already  computed,  but  on  a  fair  estimate  of  probabilities,  have  re- 
sulted in  sparing  the  resources  of  the  State  the  useless  expenditure 
of  larger  sums  of  money,  as  well  as  its  social  and  moral  economies, 
much  disorder,  and  the  blood  and  life  of  its  people,  the  contagion 
and  infection  of  disease  and  vice. 

The  public  system  of  out-relief,  as  organized  and  administered 
in  many  places,  is  a  prolific  propagator  of  pauperism.  Until  our 
departments  and  bureaus  of  local,  as  well  as  State  and  National, 
governments  shall  be  regulated  by  a  reformed  civil-service  divorced 
from  partisan  politics,  the  dispensation  of  alms  in  money  or  food 
or  other  things,  by  public  officials,  to  recipients  in  their  homes,  will 
continue  to  be  a  source  of  corruption.     The  taint  affects  the  body 


348  TUE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

politic  directly,  as  does  all  venality  in  public  life.  The  fraud  upon 
the  service  is  of  no  account,  in  comparison  with  the  wrong  done  in 
converting-  whole  families  and  circles  of  people,  who  are  actually 
or  potentially  self-supporting,  into  the  most  shameful  mendicants 
and  dependants.  The  offspring  of  households  so  "  helped  "  soon 
become  helpless  parasites  upon  the  public. 

Organized  charity,  administered  by  voluntary  societies,  is  the 
remedy  for  such  evils.  The  first  association  of  this  sort  in  the 
United  States  was  formed  in  the  year  1877,  in  the  city  of  Buffalo, 
N.  y.  Similar  societies  now  exist  in  Philadelphia,  Boston,  Brook- 
lyn, and  about  one  hundred  other  American  cities,  the  forms  and 
plans  of  which  differ  in  certain  res^Dects,  some  of  them  more  than 
others  resembling  the  pioneer  organization  of  London,  but  the  best 
of  them  providing  no  financial  aid  except  through  outside  agencies 
or  in  emergencies. 

The  Charity  Organization  Society  of  the  City  of  New  York, 
formed  January  26,  1882,  is  destined  to  do  a  great  work  in  the 
metropolis.  Its  "  New  York  Charities  Directory  "  contains  over 
four  hundred  pages  of  valuable  notes  of  more  than  three  hundred 
benevolent,  and  more  than  five  hundred  congregational,  agencies, 
omitting  only  those  which  are  reported  adversely  by  the  State 
Board  of  Charities,  or  otherwise  known  to  be  unworthy. 

The  following  extracts  from  the  Constitution  show  the  prin- 
ciples of  the  society : 

Every  department  of  its  work  shall  be  completely  severed  from  all  qiiestions 
of  religious  belief,  politics,  and  nationality. 

No  person  representing  tlie  society  in  any  capacity  whatsoever  shall  use  his 
or  her  position  for  the  purpose  of  proselytism. 

The  society  shall  not  directly  dispense  alms  in  any  form. 

The  chief  objects  of  the  society  are  : 

To  be  a  centre  of  intercommunication  between  the  various  churches  and 
charitable  agencies  in  the  city.  To  foster  harmonious  co-operation  between 
them,  and  to  check  the  evils  of  the  overlaijping  of  relief. 


I 


AGENCIES  FOR   THE  PREVENTION  OF  PAUPERISM        349 

To  investigate  tlioronglilj-,  and  without  charge,  the  cases  of  all  applicants 
for  relief  which  are  referred  to  the  society  for  inquiry,  and  to  send  the  persons 
having  a  legitimate  interest  in  such  cases  full  reports  of  the  results  of  investiga- 
tion. 

To  obtain  from  the  proper  charities  and  charitable  individuals  suitable  and 
adequate  relief  for  deserving  cases. 

To  procure  work  for  poor  persons  who  are  capable  of  being  wholly  or  par- 
tially self-supporting. 

To  repress  mendicity  by  the  above  means  and  by  the  prosecution  of  impos- 
tors. 

To  promote  the  general  walfare  of  the  poor  by  social  and  sanitary  reforms, 
and  by  the  inculcation  of  habits  of  providence  and  self-dependence. 

Its  tender  of  services  has  been  accepted  by  nearly  all  the  relig- 
ious and  relief  associations ;  and  its  references  of  cases  receive  the 
immediate  attention  of  the  Department  of  Public  Charities  and 
Correction.  It  is  to  the  credit  of  the  city  government  that  its  ad- 
ministration of  out-relief  has  been  reduced  to  the  annual  sum  of 
^bout  $20,000.  The  writer  being  a  citizen  of  no  mean  city  in  the 
same  State,  which  has  less  than  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  in- 
habitants, regrets  that  its  annual  outlay  in  the  old  ways  for  the  old 
objects  of  out-relief,  is  relatively  larger,  being  about  $33,500,  or 
nearly  double  that  of  the  metropolis,  for  less  than  one-tenth  of  the 
population.  In  the  matter  of  places  where  spirituous  and  fermented 
liquors  are  sold  to  be  drunk  at  the  bar  or  on  the  premises,  the  two 
cities  are  in  comparison  as  follows  :  In  Rochester,  exclusive  of 
drug-stores,  about  twelve  hundred,  of  which  about  nine  hundred 
and  fifty  are  licensed  ;  in  New  York,  about  nine  thousand  licensed 
and  unlicensed  saloons  and  places,  according  to  the  writer's  esti- 
mate from  data  given  by  Mr.  Robert  Graham,  the  Secretary  of  the 
Church  Temperance  Society,  confirmed  by  advices  published  in  the 
New  York  S^m,  on  the  alleged  authority  of  Superintendent  Byrnes, 
That  the  provincial  city  has  needs  to  be  met  by  the  direct  agency 
and  the  indirect  influence  of  its  infant  society  for  the  organization 
of  charity,  is  clear  in  the  light  of  the  facts  cited. 


350  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

The  popular  appreliension  should  embrace  one  prominent  fact, 
found  from  general  statistics,  viz. :  that  public  indoor  relief  is  not 
increased  by  diminishing  public  out-relief,  which  shows  that  cases 
requiring  out-relief  are  supplied  by  private  societies  or  persons, 
and  that  other  cases  applying  for  it  do  not,  when  refused,  come 
upon  the  public  in  any  way,  the  exceptions,  if  any,  proving  the 
rules  governing  each  class  of  cases.  It  is  to  be  remembered  al- 
ways that  the  good  ministry  of  charity  (though  by  the  older  max- 
ims confined  in  theory  to  the  relief  of  only  the  industrious  or  the 
virtuous)  is  by  the  better  precepts  and  practices  under  modern 
methods  extended  to  the  worthy  and  the  unworthy,  by  moral  meas- 
ures as  well  as  material  means  adapted  to  reach  each  individual 
case  for  the  preservation  or  restoration  of  the  jjerson  directly  in- 
volved, and  the  consequent  protection  of  society.  This  is  the  work 
of  charity  organization.  It  is  to  be  understood  also  that  the  aim  to 
organize  the  powers  for  good  against  the  organized  forces  of  evil, 
in  communities  where  the  citizens  have  not  time  to  investigate  or 
to  co-operate  in  works  of  mercy,  does  not  relieve  the  constituent  or 
the  corresj)onding  members  of  charity  organization  from  the  duty, 
or  deprive  them  of  the  blessedness,  of  beneficence.  The  design  is 
to  inform  the  conscience  of  benevolent  people  with  the  proofs  in 
each  case  ;  and  not  to  discharge  them  from,  but  to  charge  them 
with,  the  obligations  of  humanity. 

Other  forms  of  charity  organization  are  found  in  older  types. 
The  Society  of  St.  Vincent  de  Paul,  in  the  city  of  New  York,  organ- 
ized in  1835  and  incorporated  in  1872  ;  the  New  York  Association 
for  Improving  the  Condition  of  the  Poor,  organized  in  1813  and  in- 
corporated in  1818  ;  the  Society  for  the  Eelief  of  Poor  Widows 
with  Small  Children,  in  New  York,  organized  in  1798  and  incorpor- 
ated in  1802 ;  the  Children's  Aid  Society  of  the  City  of  New  York, 
organized  in  1853  and  incorporated  in  1855,  and  numerous  other  as- 
sociations in  the  metropolis  ;  with  the  Rochester  Female  Charita- 
ble Society  for  the  Relief  of  the  Sick  Poor,  organized  in  1822  and 
incorporated  in  1855,  now  operating  in  eighty-four  defined  districts, 


AGENCIES  FOR   THE  PREVENTION  OF  PAUPERISM        351 

to  which  are  assigned  about  one  hundred  visitors  under  eighteen 
active  directresses— one  and  all  represent  associations  in  the  State 
of  New  York  which  were  precursors  in  the  evolution  of  charity  or- 
ganizations, and  proceeded  on  the  underlying  principles  of  the  dis- 
l)ensation  of  moral  as  well  as  material  relief  and  its  administration 
by  "  friendly  visitors." 

University  settlements,  now  introduced  in  New  York,  Chicago, 
and  Boston,  promise  to  become  influential  centres  of  personal  sac- 
rifices and  endeavors  for  the  restoration  and  protection  of  the  weak 
l)y  the  realization  of  their  brotherhood  with  the  strong. 

The  public  and  private  agencies  of  benevolence  already  pointed 
out,  with  their  manifold  instrumentalities,  are  characterized  by  the 
self-sacrifice  as  well  as  the  se\erity  of  sympathy  seeking  the  high- 
est relief.  Their  work  is  in  full  agreement  with  that  enforced  by 
the  public  conscience,  which  has  been  informed  through  such  in- 
vestigations as  those  by  Mr.  Brace,  in  his  inquiries  respecting  "The 
Dangerous  Classes  of  New  York,"  and  by  Mr.  Eiis,  in  his  "  Studies 
Among  the  Tenements  of  New  York,"  showing  "  How  the  Other 
Half  Lives."  Such  new  activities  have,  in  this  generation,  arisen 
at  dift'erent  centres  in  the  world.  The  "  Rationalized  Christianity  " 
commended  in  Mr.  Spencer's  "  Data  of  Ethics,"  as  a  popular  equiv- 
alent for  scientific  altruism,  does  not  account  for  the  origin,  how- 
ever it  may  explain  the  movement,  of  such  voluntary  or  spontane- 
ous agencies.  The  awakening  has  been  produced  by  Christianity, 
not  in  the  abstract,  but  in  the  concrete,  working-  in  the  hearts  of 
men.  Its  practical  pity  for  unhappy  or  unworthy  men  is  the  evolu- 
tion of  Christian  experience,  and  is  justified  and  inspired  by  the 
Christian  scriptures  ;  and,  as  the  writer  believes,  is  informed  by  the 
providence  and  the  person  of  Christ,  who  evidently  works  not 
through  all  who  profess  his  name,  but  through  those,  confessing  or 
non-confessing,  who  have  been  touched  by  his  truth  and  Spirit.   • 

With  these  general  movements  are  otliers  which  were  earlier  in 
origin,  though  special,  and  on  church  and  denominational  lines. 
The  various  boards  of  home  missions  are  doing  much  for  the  salva- 


352  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

tiou  of  secular  society.  The  City  Mission  and  Tract  Society  and 
the  City  Mission  Society,  P.  E.,  of  New  York,  with  their  evangelis- 
tic labors,  are  working-  also  on  the  same  plane  as  Mr.  Brace  and  Mr. 
Eiis,  and  in  similar  lines — saving-  from  pauperism  as  well  as  from 
other  forms  of  vice  and  disease.  May  all  churches,  whose  sincere 
members  have  the  means  in  their  own  private  resources,  ultimately 
and  speedily  become  convinced  that  it  is  their  duty  to  call  assistant 
ministers  and  consecrated  laymen  wholly  set  apart  to  "go  out 
quickly  into  the  streets  and  lanes  of  the  city,  and  l)ring  in  hither 
the  poor,  and  the  maimed,  and  the  halt,  and  the  blind,"  and  to  "go 
out  into  the  highways  and  hedges  and  compel  them  to  come  in." 
Philanthropists  who  are  enlightened  on  these  subjects  appreciate 
the  administration  of  the  Ivoman  Catholic  Church  and  the  Protest- 
ant Episcopal  Church  in  their  ministries  to  the  socially  and  spirit- 
ually destitute  and  dependent  classes. 

The  Jewish  congregations  in  the  United  States  are,  in  some  re- 
spects, examples  to  distinctively  Christian  societies.  Their  minis- 
ters are  frequently  students  of  social  science.  The  precepts  which 
they  put  into  practice  have  also  their  religious,  as  well  as  their 
scientific,  credentials  and  authority.  For  they  read  the  moral  law 
of  love  as  it  is  written,  not  only  on  the  human  heart,  where  it  is  so 
often  illegible,  or  in  pagan  philosophy  and  in  literature,  or  in  the 
writings  of  the  Christian  covenant  and  dispensation,  but  also  clearly 
and  fully  in  their  own  sacred  scriptures  whose  formula,  "  thou  slialt 
love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself,"  is  in  these  very  terms  adopted  by 
Christ.  The  practice  of  these  precepts  by  this  ancient  people  re- 
specting their  poor,  is  unprecedented  and  unparalleled  in  its  honor 
to  the  written  word.  If  there  are  Jews  in  the  poor-houses  and  alms- 
houses of  the  counties  and  cities  of  the  State,  they  are  exceptions 
proving  the  rule.  Perhaps  they  sometimes  extend  too  liberal  as- 
sistance to  their  dependent  brethren,  and  demoralize  by  out-relief 
in  even  private  dispensation  ;  but  such  cases  are  comparatively 
rare.  The  endeavor  of  ministers  and  members  of  their  congrega- 
tions is  to  relieve  all  classes  of  their  indigent  people,  by  helping 


I 


AGENCIES  FOR   THE  PREVENTION  OF  PAUPERISM         353 

tliem  to  help  themselves  through  the  personal  ag-eiicy  of  friendly 
visitors.  The  refugees  from  religious  or  political  persecuticm  in 
Europe,  who  have  come  under  the  protection  and  care  of  the  Jews 
in  America  within  the  last  few  years,  have  been  severe  but  success- 
ful tests  of  these  principles  for  the  prevention  of  pauperism. 

In  the  united  Jewish  charities  organized  by  the  principal  Jewish 
congregation,  under  their  minister,  Eev.  Max  Landsberg,  Ph.D.,  in 
Rochester,  N.  Y.,  106  new  "  cases,"  or  families,  of  2G2  persons,  Avere 
received  as  Jewish  immigrants  from  Russia,  from  October  1,  1891, 
to  March  1,  1892.  Nearly  all  of  these  cases  came  in  a  destitute 
and  dependent  condition,  and  thirty  were  men  who  had  left  their 
wives  and  children  in  Russia.  One  of  these  cases  is  given  as  a  fair 
representation  of  them  all,  viz. :  a  family  of  10  jjersons  assisted  as 
follows  :  October,  $77.04  ;  November,  $17.75  ;  December,  $10 ;  Jan- 
nary,  $12  ;  February,  $8  ;  March,  $5 ;  besides  three  and  one-half 
tons  of  coal,  and  aid  in  finding  and  doing  work,  with  friendly  coun- 
sel. This  family  is  now  self-supporting,  though  its  head  had  been 
a  fish-packer  in  Russia,  and  was  obliged  to  learn  a  new  trade  here. 
Of  the  106  cases,  19  were  refused  and  85  were  assisted,  of  whom  all 
are  now  earning  their  own  maintenance  without  assistance  except 
friendly  advice. 

Dr.  Landsberg-  asserts  that  a  large  expense  at  first,  in  proper 
cases,  may  be  true  economy  of  means  to  the  end  of  self-mainten- 
ance. Many  other  i^ersons  who  deal  Avith  destitute  classes  gravi- 
tating toward  dependence  have  arrived  at  this  conclusion.  The 
danger  of  out-relief,  in  such  cases,  arises,  as  we  have  seen,  from  the 
political  nature  of  its  public  dispensation,  but  disappears  on  its  i3ri- 
vate  and  organized  administration  b}'^  means  of  friendly  visitors. 

Indoor  relief  in  county  poor-houses  and  city  almshouses,  under 
proper  laws,  can  be  regulated  and  corrected  by  rules  and  checks, 
which  cannot  be  applied  to  the  conduct  of  political  oflicials  in  mat- 
ters of  out-relief.     There  have  been  radical  improvements  in  these 

houses   during  the  past   twenty-five  years.      The   last  beneficent 
23 


354  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

change  in  the  State  of  New  York  was  effected  by  Chapter  12G  of  the 
laws  of  1890,  known  as  the  State  Care  Act.  By  this  statute — except- 
ing the  Counties  of  New  York,  Kings,  and  Monroe,  but  providing 
that  they  may  elect  to  waive  such  exception — it  is  enacted  that  the 
insane  poor  shall  be  transferred  from  county  custody  to  care  and 
treatment  in  State  hospitals.  Monroe  County  has  already  accepted 
both  the  benefits  and  burdens  of  this  legislative  act.  It  is  to  be  re- 
gretted that  the  way  is  not  made  clear  for  the  City  and  County  of 
New  York  to  pursue  the  same  course,  in  accordance  with  the  con- 
clusions of  the  State  Board  of  Charities,  stated  in  several  reports  of 
its  standing  committee  on  the  insane.  The  fact  remains  that  the 
condition  of  the  insane  poor  in  the  asylums  of  New  York  Citj^,  on 
Blackwell's,  Ward's,  and  Hart's  Islands,  has  been  worse  in  some  re- 
spects than  in  the  rural  and  other  interior  counties  of  the  State  ; 
and  has  been  caused  by  crowding  buildings,  some  of  which  are  not 
tenantable,  through  the  neglect  of  successive  Boards  of  Estimate 
and  Apportionment  to  make  proper  appropriations. 

The  Willard  Asylum  Act,  passed  in  1865,  had  provided  for 
exclusive  State  care ;  but  on  account  of  deficient  provisions  in  the 
State  institutions,  the  State  Board  of  Charities,  in  pursuance  of  its 
authority  by  law,  exempted  nineteen  counties  from  its  operation. 
The  new  departure  under  the  State  Care  Act  of  1890,  has  made  such 
progress  in  the  increase  of  accommodations  at  the  State  hospitals 
by  means  of  inexpensive  buildings,  on  detached  or  cottage  plans, 
for  the  custody  of  the  medically  chronic  classes  of  the  insane,  as  to 
warrant  the  confident  belief  that,  within  one  or  two  years,  more  or 
less,  the  transition  from  County  to  State  care,  except  in  the  Counties 
of  New  York  and  Kings,  will  be  happily  completed. 

The  correction  or  prevention  of  pauperism  is  intimately  related 
to  the  curative  and  humane  treatment  and  care  of  the  insane  j)oor, 
for  the  reason  that  while,  like  many  other  classes  of  poor  persons, 
they,  with  their  families,  may  become  dependent  or  demoralized 
through  either  neglect  or  unwise  interference,  they  are  neither  nee- 


AGENCIES  FOR   TUE  PREVENTION  OF  PAUPERISM        355 

essarily  nor  presumptively  paupers.  The  fact  may  be  better  stated 
by  saying-  positively  that  an  extremely  small  proportion  of  the  in- 
digent  insane  come  from  the  classes  tainted  with  pauperism.  This 
conclusion,  though  contrary  to  popular  apprehension,  is  sustained 
by  the  opinions  of  alienists  and  specialists.  Insanity,  when  ne- 
glected, is  the  cause  of  pauperism,  but  pauperism  is  seldom  the 
source  of  insanity.  The  workers  in  the  poor-houses  have  been 
confined  almost  exclusively  to  the  lunatics.  The  legislation  in  the 
great  States  of  New  York,  Pennsylvania,  Ohio,  and  Illinois,  for  ex- 
clusive State  care,  is  absolutely  justified  on  the  ground  of  humanity, 
but  may  also  be  defended  on  the  ground  of  economy.  Opponents 
objected  that  the  better  care  of  the  State  would  attract  patients 
who,  under  the  county  system,  would  remain  in  their  families.  If 
the  prediction  shall  be  fulfilled,  the  results  will  not  be  deplored  in 
the  interest  of  society.  The  father,  or  rnother,  or  bread-winner,  of  a 
family,  when  stricken  with  insanity,  ceases  to  become  a  producer, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  becomes  an  incumbrance  upon  not  only  the 
accumulations  or  earnings,  but  also  the  time,  energy,  and  jn'oduc- 
ing  capacity  of  the  other  members  of  the  family,  thereby  directly 
impoverishing  the  community,  and  perhaps  further  prejudicing  it 
by  the  ultimate  pauperization  of  the  family.  Here,  as  everywhere, 
the  welfare  of  the  State  is  consistent  Avitli  humanity  toward  its  citi- 
zens, and  justice  to  its  taxpayers  is  in  harmony  with  mercy  to  its 
wards. 

The  separatioji  of  the  sexes,  which  has  been  effected  in  the 
county  houses,  will,  it  is  believed,  be  followed  by  better  classifica- 
tion of  the  inmates.  The  obstacles  now  in  the  way  are  not  so  fre- 
quently the  results  of  mal-administration,  as  they  are  the  necessary 
effects  of  bad  construction  of  old  buildings.  But  all  obstructions 
must  give  way  to  the  obligation  of  respecting  the  worthy  j)oor,  who 
have  become  dependent  from  losses  of  friends,  or  health,  or  property, 
and  of  separating  them  from  vagrant  or  vicious  paupers.  Such 
classification  for  indoor  relief,  with  private  charity  properly  organ- 


3o(j  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

ized  outside,  will  remove  the  last  excuse  for  the  public  dispensa- 
tion of  out-relief.  The  consummation  will  afford  another  ilhistra- 
tion  of  the  harmony  between  humanity,  as  a  social  and  political 
duty,  and  public  policy. 

The  transference  of  children  from  the  demoralizing-  influences  of 
poor-houses  to  asylums  was  effected  by  a  law,  recommended  by  the 
State  Board  of  Charities,  and  enacted  in  the  year  1875.     Prior  to 
this  legislation,  its  subjects,  many  of  whom  on  the  death  of  their 
parents  came  from  homes  of  relative  industry  and  purity,  and  most 
of  whom  were  presumptively  innocent  of  the  virus  of  pauperism 
though  susceptible  and  in  highly  receptive  states,  were  one  and  all 
detained  in  intimate  association  with  the  chronic  cases  of  the  dis- 
ease, in  the  common  wards  of  the  county  houses,  until  they  could 
be  placed  by  the  county  superintendents  of  the  poor  in  private 
families.     While  the  net  results  of  the  law  have  been  good,  the 
statistics  gathered  and  compiled  by  the  State  Board  of  Charities 
show  that  its  operation  has  been  attended  with  incidental  evils. 
The  following-  figures  are  approximate,  inasmuch  as  they  relate  to 
all  institutions  that  reported  such  data  in  1891,  which  are  the  ma- 
jority of  the  whole  number.     Of  18,556  orphan  and  destitute  chil- 
dren in  such  asylums,   October  1,  1891,  there  were  3,671  orphans, 
10,356  half  orphans,  4,065  who  had  both  parents  living,  and  465  whose 
social  condition  was  not  g:iven ;   while  there  were    supported   by 
cities,  counties,  and  towns,  11,061 ;  by  parents  and  friends,  1,717 ; 
by  the  institutions,  2,430  ;  and  not  stated,  3,348  ;  and  there  were 
committed,  by  magistrates  and  courts,  8,130  ;  by  commissioners  of 
charities,  1,005  ;  by  superintendents  of  the  poor,  1,823  ;  by  overseers 
of  the  poor,  938  ;  by  parents  and  friends,  4,422 ;  and  not  stated, 
2,238  ;  and  the  duration  of  institution  life  had  been  5,763  for  less  % 
than  one  year ;  5,757  for  one  year  and  less  than  three  ;  3,051  for 
three  years  and  less  than  five  ;  2,782  for  over  five  years ;  and  not 
stated  303 — though  the  total  number  of  sick,  infirm,  crippled,  de- 
formed, or  disabled  was  only  about  three  per  cent.,  and  of  feeble- 
minded, only  one  and  two-tenths  per  cent.,  with    thirteen  cases 


AGENGIE8  FOR   THE  PREVENTION  OF  PAUPERISM        357 

of  idiocy.  The  indications  from  these  statistics  are  that  some  asy- 
lums are  taking  on  the  character  of  permanent  homes  at  pnhlic  ex- 
pense, tlioug-li  they  should  be  regarded  as  domiciliary  for  only  tran- 
sitional and  provisional  purposes,  until  their  beneficiaries  can  be 
placed  in  good  families.  One  evil  is  that  while  the  institutions  are 
thus  enlarged  and  extended,  they  impose  burdens  on  the  taxpayers 
for  maintenance  of  their  wards,  without  commensurate  benefits,  but 
in  many  cases  with  positive  injury.  Children  who  are  detained  too 
long  in  asylums  tend  to  become  institutionized  and  unfitted  to  cor- 
respond with  a  free  environment  on  their  final  discharge.  The  close 
corporations  of  private  managers  of  these  semi-public  institutions 
sometimes  lose  their  sense  of  responsibility  to  the  people.  Relief 
would  be  found  in  remedial  legislation,  providing  among  other 
things  for  county  or  city  agents,  or  another  paid  secretary  of  the 
State  Board,  whose  duty  it  should  be  to  see  that  the  asylums  exer- 
cise due  diligence  in  placing  their  wards,  under  proper  conditions, 
in  private  families  of  good  character  and  circumstances,  in  visiting 
them  statedly,  and  in  securing  legal  commitments  to  the  institutions 
and  proper  indentures  from  them,  thus  protecting  foster  parents  as 
well  as  their  adopted  children. 

A  high  authority  on  these  questions — Mrs.  Charles  Riissell 
Lowell — in  her  report  to  the  State  Board  of  Charities,  transmitted 
with  its  annual  report  to  the  Legislature  in  1890,  has  given  proofs  of 
the  evils  in  the  present  system  or  want  of  system,  and  proposed 
remedies.  The  report  shows  about  $1,500,000  expended  for  the  care 
and  maintenance  of  about  an  average  of  14,000  children  for  the  pre- 
ceding fiscal  year,  in  the  city  of  New  York,  with  other  facts,  from 
which  the  inference  is  plain  that  many  parents  with  their  offspring 
are  pauperized  by  removing  them  from  the  natural  relations  of  life, 
with  unwise  kindness,  if  not  inhumanity,  to  them,  as  well  as  injus- 
tice to  the  taxpayers. 

In  the  State  Charities  Record  for  December,  1894,  published  by 
the  State  Charities  Aid  Association,  the  leading  article,  by  Anna  T. 
AVilson,  formerly  of  Philadelphia,  now  of  the  Charity  Organization 


358  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

Society  of  New  York,  contrasts  the  care  of  dependent  children  in 
the  two  cities,  and  it  is  stated  that,  in  the  year  1890,  the  city  of  New 
York,  with  a  population  of  1,500,000,  appropriated  $1,647,295.10  for 
the  support  of  15,449  children  in  its  private  institutions,  and 
$192,997.74  for  the  support  of  909  children  on  Eaudall's  Island,  mak- 
ing $1,840,292.84  for  an  average  of  not  less  than  15,000  children  ; 
while  the  city  of  Philadelphia,  with  a  population  of  1,000,000  appro- 
priated $28,724.82  for  the  support  of  an  average  of  less  than  250 
children  in  institutions.  The  system  of  boarding  out  children  un- 
til the}^  can  be  permanently  placed  by  adoption  in  families,  is  in 
Philadelphia  made  the  substitute  for  the  system  of  asylums  in  New 
York  ;  and  from  all  accounts  appears  to  be  working  well,  as  also 
may  be  said  of  the  new  extension  of  the  plan  from  dejaendent  to 
destitute  children,  including  those  convicted  of  felonies,  of  which 
Homer  Folks  writes  hopefully  in  the  Record  for  November,  1894.  It 
should,  however,  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  results  have  been  partly 
due  to  fortunate  combinations  of  circumstances,  including  the  as- 
sistance of  the  Children's  Aid  Society  of  Pennsylvania  ;  and  that 
data  from  large  fields  in  other  States  and  countries  show  that  the 
boarding-out  system  has  not  always  proved  humane,  even  for  de- 
pendent adults.* 

There  is  now  devolved  by  law  upon  the  State  Board  of  Charities 
of  New  York,  the  function  of  determining  and  certifying  whether 
applications  for  the  incorporation  of  institutions  and  societies  hav- 
ing the  care  of  children,  shall  be  granted.  This  power  is  carefully 
exercised,  and  decisions  are  made  under  it  only  after  full  investiga- 
tion. 

Notwithstanding  the  safeguards  and  precautions  vouchsafed  by 

*  Fdi-  juvenile  dependents  the  system  is  reported  from  England  as  unsatisfactory 
(p.  171,  appendix  to  the  last  edition  of  The  Poor  Law  of  England  by  T.  W.  Fowie  ; 
Macmillan  &  Co.).  The  extended  and  successive  reports  of  Hon.  William  P.  Letch- 
worth,  on  the  asylums  for  orphan  and  destitute  children  in  the  State,  transmitted 
and  published  with  many  of  the  annual  reports  of  the  State  Board  of  Charities  of 
New  York,  are  here  mentioned  as  of  high  authoritj^  and  value,  though  they  are  but 
a  small  fraction  of  his  labors  and  contributions  in  the  general  work  of  the  board. 


AGENCIES  FOR   THE  PREVENTION  OF  PAUPERISM        359 

the  Society  for  the  Prevention  of  Cruelty  to  Chiklren  in  New  York 
and  other  cities,  which  are  assumed  to  be  all  that  are  possible  un- 
der existing-  laws,  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  children  are  not 
infrequently  committed  to  juvenile  reformatories,  including-  the 
House  of  Eefuge  on  Kandall's  Island  and  the  State  Industrial 
School  at  Rochester,  N.  Y.,  on  frivolous  or  false  complaints  of  par- 
ents, in  order  to  shift  the  burden  of  maintenance  and  education  to 
the  State,  county,  or  city.  The  remedy  should  be  found  in  new 
legislation,  requiring  corroboratory  proofs  on  all  complaints  by 
parents  or  guardians  or  relations,  and  assessing,  upon  the  persons 
responsil)le  for  the  support  of  the  children  in  the  home,  part  of  the 
cost  of  their  maintenance  in  the  institution. 

The  progress  which  has  been  made  in  some  of  these  reforma- 
tories, during-  the  last  decade,  furnishes  great  temptation  for  unwise 
if  not  fraudulent  commitments  to  them.  In  the  matter  of  techno- 
logic instruction  alone,  the  State  Industrial  School  of  New  York 
offers  great  inducements  ;  as  among  the  semi-public  institutions  of 
this  sort  in  the  same  state  the  Catholic  Protectory  has,  for  the  last 
decade,  been  in  advance  in  the  teaching-  of  trades.  That  these  ju- 
venile institutions,  and  the  reformatories  for  adults,  do  accomplish 
reformations  in  vastly  greater  proportions  than  could  be  effected  in 
the  same  classes  by  the  old  time  confinement  and  discipline  in 
State  prisons,  county  and  city  penitentiaries  and  jails,  is  a  conclu- 
sion of  fact  from  experience  in  the  State  of  New  York  (whatever  it 
may  be  in  Massachusetts  or  elsewhere)  resjDecting  which  there  is 
no  reasonable  doubt  among  persons  acquainted  with  the  sul)ject. 

Kecent  discussions  have  appeared  to  throw  doubts  over  some 
points  that  should  be  clear.  If,  in  any  county  or  state  or  institu- 
tion, sentiment  has  been  exchanged  for  sentimentalism,  or  ideas 
have  been  entertained  without  verification  by  facts,  we  may  expect 
reactions  swinging  to  the  other  extreme  before  there  can  be  any 
stable  equilibrium  of  opinion  or  feeling  among  the  opposing- 
parties  on  the  questions  in  penology.     That  all  progress  in  the 


360  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

mental  and  social,  as  well  as  in  the  physical  world,  must  be  in 
rhythm,  is  shown  by  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer,  and  illustrated  by  cer- 
tain criticisms  which  lately  have  denied  even  the  wise  humanity 
and  practical  risfhteousness  of  the  recommendations  of  the  great 
prison  reformer,  Howard. 

The  sceptic  who  questions  the  superiority  of  remedial  over  re- 
tributive discipline  of  convicts,  may  resolve  his  doubts  by  visiting- 
the  State  Reformatory  of  New  York.  This  institution,  at  Elmira, 
is  for  men  under  thirty  and  over  sixteen  years  of  age,  on  first  con- 
viction of  felony,  and  under  sentence  not  to  exceed  the  maximum 
prison  term,  but  otherwise  indeterminate.  The  evidence  shows 
that  about  eighty  per  cent,  of  the  criminals  committed  to  it  are  re- 
formed, in  the  sense  that  they  are  made  over,  not  into  perfected 
saints,  but  into  law-abiding  citizens. 

This  is  the  end  attained.  What  are  the  means  employed  ? 
They  are  measures  not  of  conciliation,  but  of  conversion.  The  cul- 
prit is  conformed  to  the  environment ;  not  the  environment  to  him. 
He  is  conformed  to  society,  being  formed,  by  pressure  which  is  new, 
to  a  standard  which  also  is  new  to  him,  that  is  to  say,  he  is  re- 
formed. The  process  is  painful  in  proportion  as  it  is  needful.  The 
patient  on  reception  is  admitted  to  the  middle  grade,  from  which  it 
is  possible  for  him  to  gain  promotion  to  the  highest  grade,  whence, 
after  due  probation,  he  would  be  graduated  to  his  home  or  other 
proper  place  selected  for  him  by  the  superintendent,  but  thus  re- 
leased on  parole  and  trial  until  proved  to  be  worthy  of  absolute  dis- 
charge. The  frequent  experience,  however,  is  of  degradation  to 
the  lowest  grade,  as  the  first  actual  step,  seemingly  backward,  Itut 
as  the  events  jirove,  in  most  cases  really  forward.  The  subject 
striving  to  regain  his  lost  footing  must  use  every  exertion,  physical, 
mental,  and  moral,  in  continued  effort  and  endeavor ;  and  before 
success  is  apt  to  plunge  into  despair,  to  be  lifted  only  by  personal 
intervention  of  the  superintendent,  inspiring  in  him  a  new  will  as 
of  grace.  The  writer  once  visited  all  the  lowest  grade  men  after 
they  were  locked  in  their  cells  at  night,  and  was  pleased  to  hear 


AGENCIES  FOR   THE  PREVENTION  OF  PAUPERISM        361 

tliem  ascribe  their  failures  to  themselves,  and  not  to  the  system  or 
its  administration ;  while  not  a  few,  however,  expressed  their  de- 
sire to  be  transferred  to  State-prison,  in  order  to  escape  the  disci- 
pline, and,  as  some  of  them  illustrated  their  meaning-,  in  order  to 
avoid  the  schools  and  study  after  the  day's  work,  and  to  obtain  to- 
bacco and  indulgence. 

The  process  of  such  conversion,  and  the  drill  and  discipline  and 
rehabilitation  of  the  very  nervous  org-anism  into  a  new  character 
and  manhood,  is  necessarily  painful.  But  to  use  this  fact  or  the 
natural  laws  accounting  for  it,  to  justify  or  excuse  the  old  time  dis- 
cipline of  iprisons,  where  profane  and  obscene  keepers  cursed  and 
abused  the  convicts,  and  inflicted  on  them  corj^oral  punishments  in 
order  to  "  g-et  even  with  them,"  is  no  more  sensible  than  it  would  be 
for  a  surgeon  or  physician  to  subject  his  patient  to  pains  of  arbi- 
trary cuttings  and  burnings  and  flagellations,  in  addition  to  the 
necessary  sufferings  of  curative  processes. 

The  system  of  State-prisons  of  New  York,  as  distinguished  from 
that  of  its  reformatories,  is  vitiated  by  an  inherited  tendency  to 
political  partisanship,  contrary  to  the  statute  (Sub.  3,  Sec.  50,  of 
Chapter  382  of  the  laws  of  1889) ;  and,  with  that  of  its  county  jciils, 
is  thus  to  a  great  extent  subsidized  for  the  production  of  chronic 
felons  and  paupers. 

The  work  of  reformatories  must  be  inadequate,  unless  the  pre- 
ventive work  of  such  associations  as  the  Society  for  the  Prevention 
of  Crime,  and  the  restorative  work  of  the  Prison  Association  of 
New  York,  shall  sustain  and  supplement  it. 

The  preventive  measures  respecting  prisoners  have  an  intimate 
relation,  with  those  regarding  paupers.  Any  decrease  in  the  num- 
ber of  recidivous  criminals  or  misdemeanants  diminishes  the  num- 
ber of  paupers  manifoldly  ;  for  habitual  offenders,  in  their  intervals 
between  prison  terms,  beget  and  educate  races  of  variously  demor- 
alized and  pauperized  types  of  human  beings,  and  criminals  and 
paupers  succeed  each  other,  as  has  been  familiarly  illustrated  in 
the  annals  of  "  The  Jukes,"  in  the  State  of  New  York,  and  in  the 


362  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

more  recent  history  of  the  "  Tribe  of  Ishmael,"  by  Kev.  Oscar 
McCulloch,  the  late  President  of  the  State  Board  of  Charities  of 
Indiana.  The  present  practice  under  the  hiws  is  to  sentence  dis- 
turbers of  the  peace,  on  conviction  of  public  drunkenness,  debauch- 
ery, or  disorder,  to  imprisonment  for  a  term  of  ten  days  or  upward, 
just  sufficient  to  permit,  not  reformation  of  moral  character,  but  re- 
cuperation of  vitality  and  accumulation  of  physical  energy  for  re- 
newed dissipation  and  disturbance,  with  repetitions  of  transgression 
and  punishment  indefinitely  prolonged,  perhaps  scores  of  times  in 
one  life. 

Civil  inferventioJi,  to  he  henejicent  to  such  trcmsgressors,  or  to  society, 
wJiose  laws  they  violate,  should  he  prolonged  and  uninterrupted,  until 
there  is  a  reasonahle  evidence  of  refoi'mation  ;  and  in  the  absence  of 
trustworthy  evidence  should  be  continued  indefinitely,  until  death 
may  release  these  cumberers  of  the  ground. 

This  conclusion  in  favor  of  indeterminate  sentences  without 
maximum  limits,  applies  to  delinquent  or  depraved  paupers,  who 
now  come  and  go  to  and  from  the  jDublic  houses  of  counties  and 
cities,  with  the  primary  eflect  of  prolonging  their  own  evil  courses, 
and  with  the  secondary  consequence  of  continuing  their  kind  by 
generation  or  succession.  For,  waiving  the  philosophical  explana- 
tion of  social  environment  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  theory  of  nat- 
ural inheritance  on  the  other,  we  know  as  matters  of  fact  that  often, 
in  almost  unbroken  and  indefinite  lines,  criminals  and  paupers  suc- 
ceed each  other,  under  the  intermittent  treatment  of  civil  govern- 
ments, where,  if  either  removed  from  society  or  left  to  nature,  they 
would  soon  become  extinct. 

The  question  ofhe7'edity  (though  eliminated  from  the  problem  of 
the  treatment  of  adult  individuals  belonging  to  the  delinquent  and 
dependent  classes,  the  solution  of  which  is  on  any  hypothesis  in 
their  detention  from  their  kind)  is  not  so  easily  disposed  of  when 
we  come  to  their  offspring,  to  detain  whom  indefinitely  in  either 
prisons  or  asylums  would  be  inhuman  and  unjust.     The  great  work 


AGENCIES  FOR   THE  PREVENTION  OF  PAUPERISM        363 

done  by  the  Cliildren's  Aid  Society  of  New  York,  in  placing  their 
wards  in  good  homes  in  Western  States,  represents,  on  a  grand 
scale  of  conception  and  execntion,  the  proper  treatment  which  is 
at  once  popular  and  philosophic.  But  the  question  has  often  re- 
turned to  thoughtful  minds.  What  has  become  of  the  taint  or  ten- 
dency in  the  blood  of  these  children  to  evil,  if  any,  when  mixed  in 
the  veins  of  descendants  in  the  Western  States,  where  they  have 
been  adopted  into  pure  families  and  developed  under  a  i3ure  atmos- 
phere, and  finall}^  have  intermarried  with  other  stocks  ? 

The  discussion  of  hereditary  tendency  came  to  the  surface  in 
some  of  the  articles  of  the  symposium  entitled  "Treatment  of  Ju- 
venile Delinquents,"  in  The  Independent  of  March  3, 1892.  The  sub- 
ject was  there  settled  by  overruling  Avhat  were  assumed  to  be  the 
inductions  or  speculations  of  scientists,  as  opposed  to  the  conclu- 
sions of  practical  workers  in  the  field.  The  findings  of  fact  from 
the  experience,  the  observation,  and  the  first  sources  of  information 
of  these  philanthropic  specialists,  who  deal  directly  with  the  mat- 
ters involved  in  the  inquiry,  are  worth  more  than  hypotheses  in- 
vented to  account  for  general  statements  of  phenomena  in  l)ooks. 

In  a  recent  letter  Mr.  C.  Loving  Brace,  Secretary''  of  the  Chil- 
dren's Aid  Society,  said  :  "  So  far  as  we  can  judge,  inheritance  does 
not  figure  in  the  problem.  It  is  want  of  care  and  judicious  train- 
ing in  childhood  which  is  responsible  for  whatever  difticulties  we 
have  to  cope  wdth.  This  Society  has  i^laced  84,000  children  in 
homes  since  it  began  this  work  forty  years  ago  ;  and  it  is  our  ex- 
IDerience  that  no  matter  what  the  parents  may  be,  if  the  child  is 
taken  away  at  an  age  so  early  that  it  has  not  yet  understood  the 
wickedness  about  it,  if  placed  in  a  country  home  with  kind  and  ju- 
dicious adoptive  parents,  it  is  almost  certain  to  do  well.  My  father 
has  always  stated  that  not  more  than  two  per  cent,  turned  out 
badly.  But  if  the  child  is  not  transplanted  early  enough,  tlion  there 
are  the  bad  examples,  bad  habits,  and  knowledge  of  evil  ways  to 
contend  against.  It  is  among  these  older  children  that  we  some- 
times fail  and  of  whom  complaints  are  sometimes  made,  but  inher- 


364  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

itance  is  not  responsible  for  this.     It  is  early  neglect  and  evil  sur- 
roundings," 

Happily,  Mr.  Brace  is  right,  and  there  is  no  real  contention 
at  the  present  time  between  science  and  the  ex^jerience  gained  by 
philanthropists.  The  last  word  of  scientists  is'  in  accordance  with 
the  words  of  these  practical  specialists.  The  theory  of  heredity 
now  held  by  Wallace,  who  shares  with  Darwin  the  credit  of  the  hy- 
pothesis of  natural  selection,  and  by  AYeismann  and  the  most  emi- 
nent authorities,  is  that  acquired  characteristics  of  the  parent  do 
not  pass  to  the  child  by  inheritance.  The  truth  stated  would  seem 
to  admit  a  tendency  of  all  traits  of  progenitors  to  pass,  which  in  the 
case  of  qualities  that  are  the  results  of  protracted  accumulations 
of  experience,  continued  in  long  lines  of  successive  g-enerations, 
will  be  transmitted,  unless  overcome  by  environment  ;  but  which 
in  the  case  of  qualities  that  were  acquired  by  the  immediate  an- 
cestors, will  not  be  propagated  with  any  effectual  or  appreciable 
force  if  opposed  by  outside  influences.  Hence,  a  foster  parent 
would  assume  less  risk  of  blood  in  succoring-  the  offspring  of  de- 
linquent, diseased,  or  dependent  parents  whose  remote  lineage  is 
good,  than  in  adopting  the  children  whose  father  and  mother  are 
both  worthy  in  their  own  personal  character,  but  one,  if  not  both, 
of  whom  come  of  general  stock  which  was  bad.  These  conclusions 
make  the  matter  so  mixed  as  to  remove  it  from  practical  considera- 
tion. 

In  this  light  we  can  appreciate  the  work  done  by  the  Children's 
Aid  Society  of  New  York,  not  only  in  the  magnitude  of  its  propor- 
tions, but  in  the  far-reaching  effects  of  its  beneficence.  This  soci- 
ety, during  the  last  fiscal  year,  had  charge  of  36,363  children,  of 
whom  it  taught  and  partly  clothed  and  fed  10,464  in  its  twenty-two 
industrial  schools  and  nine  night  schools,  and  sent  2,851  to  homes, 
mainly  in  the  "West.  It  is  an  approved  agency  for  bringing  to  bear 
the  influences  of  environment  and  education  upon  character  and 
destiny  at  formative  periods  of  growth. 

And  complementary  to  such  work  is  that  of  the  Societies  for  the 


AGENCIES  FOR   THE  PREVENTION  OF  PAUPERISM        3G5 

Prevention  of  Cruelty  to  Children,  whicli  interfere  to  protect  chil- 
dren in  their  homes,  become  guardians  of  their  persons,  and  take 
charge  of  them  upon  commitments,  and  thus  by  moral  influence  as 
well  as  actual  intervention  prevent  not  only  untold  suffering,  but 
also  the  demoralizing  effects  upon  the  parent  who  inflicts  as  well  as 
the  child  who  suffers  cruelty. 

No  presentation  of  the  subject  of  liquor  saloons  is  needed.  The 
moral  and  religious  people  of  the  State  know  perfectly  well  that 
these  saloons  are  the  centres  where  political  corruption  tinds  its 
points  of  application,  and  whence  flow  unceasing  currents  creating 
most  of  the  pauperism  and  public  vice  which  infest  the  body  politic. 
And  the  same  respectable  and  dominant  classes  know  as  well  that, 
without  imposing  prohibitory  laws  upon  unwilling  minorities,  or  un- 
duly interfering  with  personal  liberty,  it  is  in  their  power  to  abate 
these  public  nuisances.  A  mighty  crusade  in  this  direction  might 
be  led  by  some  agency  such  as  the  Church  Temperance  Society. 

It  may  be  hoped  that  remedies  for  many  social  evils,  as  well  as 
reformations  of  abuses  in  public  institutions  of  charity  and  correc- 
tion, will,  in  the  future,  even  more  than  in  the  past,  be  promoted  by 
the  State  Charities  Aid  Association  of  the  City  of  New  York.  This 
society  was  formed  twenty  years  aga  by  Miss  Louisa  Lee  Schuyler. 
While  its  work  in  some  respects  is  subordinated  to  that  of  the 
State  Board  of  Charities,  as  implied  in  its  title  and  incorporation, 
its  annual  reports  to  the  Board  in  printed  book-form  show  that  its 
labors  extend  on  certain  lines  beyond  those  of  the  Board  ;  for  being 
of  voluntary  character,  its  methods,  including  newspaper  publica- 
tions, are  not  constrained  by  ofiicial  rules.  It  is  not  necessary  to 
agree  with  all  its  conclusions  in  order  to  appreciate  that  they  are 
of  the  highest  authority,  whether  in  conjunction  or  opposition  to 
those  of  the  State  Board,  or  in  extension  of  the  same.  The  writer 
regards  the  society  *  as  a  social  factor  whose  importance  cannot  be 

over-estimated. 

*  The  great  power  of  this  association  in  advancing  humanitarian  movements  is 


366  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

The  two  general  g-uides  in  the  great  works  of  reform  and  relief 
within  the  city  of  Xew  York  are,  first,  with  primary  and  particular 
reference  to  public  reforms,  the  State  Charities  Aid  Association,  Ko. 
21  University  Place,  with  its  published  journal,  The  Staie  Char- 
ities Record  ;  and,  second,  with  special  regard  to  private  relief,  the 
Charity  Organization  Society  at  the  same  place,  with  its  monthly 
periodical,  The  Charities  Review.  The  last-named  society,  with  the 
Association  for  Improving  the  Condition  of  the  Poor,  and  the 
Children's  Aid  Society,  is  to  have  its  home  in  the  United  Charities 
Building,  Fourth  Avenue,  corner  of  Twenty-second  Street,  erected 
b}"  Mr.  John  S.  Kennedy. 

Any  review  of  laws,  agencies,  and  labors  for  humanity  and  social 
economy  should  not  lose  sight  of  the  vital  relation  between  the 
primary  work  of  protecting  the  producers  in  society  from  lapsing 
into  indigence  and  the  secondary  work  of  preventing  the  poor  from 
falling  into  pauperism.  But  the  means  of  performing  the  para- 
mount duty  of  protection  to  the  workers  come  directly  within  the 
purview  of  this  chapter  upon  the  prevention  of  pauperism,  only  in 
the  matter  of  the  cost  of  private  and  public  charity  and  relief. 
From  the  tables  of  statistics  collected  and  compiled  by  the  State 
Board  of  Charities,  and  appended  as  schedules  in  its  annual  reports 
to  the  Legislature  of  Xew  York,  the  following  comparative  state- 
ment has  been  made,  showing  expenditures  for  charitable  and  re- 
formatory purposes  between  the  years  1880  and  1891,  both  inclu- 
sive, to  wit : 

Year.  Amount  exi)enclecl.  Year.  Amount  expended. 

1880.. .«8,482,648  71  1881 89,260,117  77 

1882 9,320,142  60  1883 9,938,037  05 

1884 10,642,763  86  1885 11,538,739  86 

due  to  the  high  character  of  its  membership.  Its  officers  are  :  Professor  Charles 
F.  Chandler,  of  Columbia  College,  President ;  Mrs.  William  B.  Rice,  Vice-Presi- 
dent ;  Hon.  Charles  S.  Fairchild,  Treasurer  ;  Miss  Abby  Rowland  Woolsey,  Li- 
brarian, and  ]Mr.  John  H.  Finley,  Secretary.  It  will  be  difficult  to  fill  the  place  of 
Mr.  Finley,  who  has  accepted  the  presidency  of  Knox  College. 


I 


i 


AGENCIES  FOR   THE  PREVENTION  OF  PAUPERISM        oij': 

Year.  Amount  expended.  Year.  Amount  exi^ended. 

1886 12,027,990  01  1887 12,574,074  67 

1888 13,315,698  97  1889 14,868,733  77 

1890 16,349,842  43  1891 17,605,660  58 

It  thus  appears  that  in  this  period  of  twelve  years  the  expen- 
ditures have  increased  a  little  more  than  one  hundred  per  cent. 
Tliongh  the  iDopulation  of  the  State  increased  only  about  nineteen 
per  cent.,  as  is  shown  on  the  basis  of  the  Federal  census,  it  also  ap- 
pears from  the  reiDorts  of  the  Comptroller  of  the  State,  that  its 
wealth  has  increased  about  fifty  per  cent,  during  the  same  x'eriod. 
Of  this  increase  in  expenditures — $9,123,011.87 — the  sum  of  Si. 222,- 
282. Gl  relates  to  institutions  managed  by  the  State  ;  and  the  State 
Reformatory  at  Elmira,  and  the  Soldiers'  and  Sailors'  Home  at 
Bath,  two  of  the  State  institutions  existing  prior  to  1880,  did  not 
appear  in  the  statistics  at  the  beginning  of  this  period  of  twelve 
years.  Again,  of  this  increase  the  sum  of  $1,171,053.58  relates  to 
institutions  owned  and  controlled  by  counties  and  cities,  leaving 
$6,729,675.68  increase  in  the  institutions  under  the  direction  and 
control  of  incorporated  benevolent  associations.  Thus  it  will  be 
seen  that  more  than  two-thirds  of  the  increase  of  the  cost  of  pub- 
lic and  private  relief  and  charity  is  due  to  private  charity,  and  that 
the  fraction  of  less  than  one-sixth  of  such  increase,  owing  to  the 
State  Institutions,  is  further  reduced  on  account  of  two  of  them  ex- 
isting, but  not  reporting  to  the  Board  in  1880. 

There  is  no  reason  to  disbelieve  or  doubt  that — excepting  per- 
haps the  Soldiers'  and  Sailors'  Home,  the  existence  of  which  is 
justified  by  patriotic  sentiment— each  and  all  the  State  institutions 
for  relief  or  reform,  including  the  eight  State  hospitals  for  the  in- 
sane, the  State  Institution  for  Feeble-minded  Children,  at  Syracuse, 
the  Custodial  Asjdum  for  Feeble-minded  Women,  at  Newark,  the 
reformatories  and  the  asylums  for  the  blind  and  the  deaf,  do  save 
to  the  people  more  than  their  cost  in  preventing  pauperism,  and 
therefore  in  protecting  both  the  industrial  and  the  indigent  classes. 

The  conclusion  of  the  whole  matter  is,  that  ivhatever  protects  the 


368  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

poor  from  pauperism,  also  protects  tlie  producer  from  poverty,  and  vice 
versa.  Therefore  the  State,  if  justified  in  interfering  for  the  good  of  any 
one  of  these  thr^ee  classes,  niay  justly  intervene  at  either  end  of  the  series. 

The  Factory  Law,  regulating'  the  sanitary  and  moral  conditions 
of  labor,  of  adult  as  well  as  juvenile  operatives  congregated  in 
masses,  where  the  units  have  no  separate  control,  and  the  princi- 
ple of  certain  proposed  legislation  correcting  the  evils  of  what  is 
known  as  the  "  sweating  systeni,"  come  within  the  legitimate  scope 
of  governmental  authority.  In  the  same  sphere  are  many  of  the 
remedies  proposed  by  reforms  for  improving  the  tenements  of  the 
working-classes  in  large  cities,  and  for  promoting  the  public 
health.  To  the  objection  that  such  civil  laws  interfere  with  the 
natural  laws  of  trade,  the  answer  is  that,  not  only  in  society,  but  in 
all  departments  of  nature,  higher  forces  constantly  intervene  to 
regulate  the  action  of  lower  forces,  and  so  interfere,  not  in  viola- 
tion, but  in  pursuance,  of  the  laws  of  the  mental  and  the  physical 
worlds.  The  advocates  of  extreme  individualism,  excluding  the  in- 
tervention of  the  State  in  matters  of  trade  or  industry,  as  also  in 
matters  of  relief  or  charity,  are  inconsistent  when  they  belong,  as 
most  of  them  do,  to  the  class  of  thinkers  who  hold  to  the  theory  of 
society,  not  as  an  aggregation  of  individuals,  but  as  an  organism. 
The  reasonable  reconciliation  of  opposing  theories  seems  to  be  that 
paternalism  in  the  State  shall  govern,  wherever  the  individual  can- 
not properly  control  the  conditions  for  his  own  protection,  as  in 
factory  laws  and  charity  laws  ;  but  that  in  all  other  respects  indi- 
vidualism should  reign,  leaving  each  person  to  work  out  his  own 
salvation  in  the  struggle  for  existence,  as  essential  discipline  for 
his  own  well  being,  as  well  as  for  the  general  welfare  of  society. 

One  objection,  which  is  more  specific  and  specious,  opposes  all 
interference  by  society  in  public  relief  or  private  charity,  for  the 
reason  that  the  delinquent  and  dependent  classes  should  as  indi- 
viduals be  left  to  suffer,  in  order  that  the  beneficent  processes 
of  nature,  providing  for  the  death  and  disappearance  of  the  spe- 
cies, may  not  be  defeated  or  delayed.     This  position  is  abhorrent 


AGENCIES  FOR   THE  PREVENTION  OF  PAUPERISM        369 


S 


to  moral  sentiment.  It  is  also  nnsoimd  in  its  philosophy,  seemin 
to  ignore  that  Mr.  Darwin's  law  of  "  natural  selection,"  as  Avell  as 
Mr.  Spencer's  law  of  "  the  survival  of  the  littest,"  which  .t  cites,  do 
in  their  full  scope  include  society  as  symbolized  under  the  fig-ures 
of  "  the  social  organism  "  and  "  the  body  politic,"  in  which  is  resi- 
dent a  moral  force  in  correspondence  with  the  environment  of 
moral  law.  Humanity  is  superior  to  political  economy  or  biology, 
and  must  leave  the  community  which  denies  it  to  moral  disinteo-ra- 
tion  and  dissolution,  until,  by  reverse  processes  of  selection,  Avhich 
sometimes  occiir  in  both  the  higher  and  the  lower  forms  of  life,  it 
shall  become  unfit  to  survive. 

The  policy  which  has  obtained  of  dispensing  public  charities  as 
well  as  civil  penalties  so  as  to  injure  rather  than  benefit  their  ob- 
jects and  society,  is  an  excuse  though  not  a  justification  for  such 
opposition  to  humanity. 

The  simple  truth,  as  we  have  seen,  is  that  the  hal)itual  and 
hardened  pauper,  as  well  as  the  congenital  or  confirmed  criminal, 
should  be  restrained  in  his  tendency  to  evil,  and  to  the  extent  of 
his  ability  constrained  to  labor  for  the  support  of  himself  and  his 
famih^j  if  any,  dependent  on  him  ;  and  indefinitely  continued  in 
such  discipline,  with  all  needful  instruction,  recreation,  and  influ- 
ence to  recovery,  under  indeterminate  sentence  of  confinement ; 
and  thus  sequestered  from  society  until  he  reforms  or  dies.  This 
is  the  law  for  remedial,  not  retributive,  and  lareventive,  not  ]inni- 
tive,  relief;  and  is  thus  the  law  of  kindness  to  the  criminous  or  un- 
worthy delinquents  or  dependants,  and  of  safety  to  the  virtuous 
workers  and  the  honest  poor,  and  therefore  of  justice.  Such  equity, 
rather  than  mere  mercy,  is  the  best  expression  of  charity  in  jiuljlic 
relations,  and  the  true  reconciliation  of  the  scientific  as  Avell  as  the 
economical  objections  to  the  intervention  of  the  State  for  the  sake 
of  humanity.  Such  relief  would  be  within  the  practical  reach,  as 
well  as  the  political  right,  of  the  State  to-day,  were  the  public  con- 
science properly  informed  of  the  facts  relating  to  the  prevention  of 

l^auperism. 

24 


THE    NEW  YORK    TENEMENT-HOUSE    EVIL    AND    ITS 

CURE 

By  ERNEST  FLAGG, 

ABCHITKCT  OP  ST.  LUKE'S  HOSPITAL,    ETC.,    ETC. 

Chief  Causes  of  the  Present  Evil— Restkictions  Imposed  by  the  Conven- 
tional City  Lot— Types  op  Tenements— Dangeu  from  Fire— Need  of 
Radical  Changes— Ignorance  in  Regard  to  Economic  Building— The 
Art  of  Commercial  Planning— The  Problem  in  Other  Cities— Extrava- 
gance OP  Present  Methods  Shown— Suggestions  for  Improvement— The 
Question  of  Light— Reform  a  Matter  of  Business  Advantage. 

rriHE  greatest  evil  which  ever  befell  New  York  City  was  the  di- 
I  vision  of  blocks  into  lots  of  25  x  100  feet.  So  true  is  this, 
that  no  other  disaster  can  for  a  moment  be  compared  with  it. 
Fires,  pestilence,  and  financial  troubles  are  as  nothing-  in  compari- 
son ;  for  from  this  division  has  arisen  the  New  York  system  of  tene- 
ment-houses, the  worst  curse  which  ever  afflicted  any  great  com- 
munity. 

The  object  of  this  paper  is  to  show  that  the  evils  of  the  system 
lie  almost  entirely  in  the  plan  ;  that  with  another  plan,  light,  air, 
health,  and  comfort  can  be  furnished  at  the  same,  if  not  at  less,  cost 
than  the  great  majority  of  the  inhabitants  of  this  town  are  now 
forced  to  pay  for  dwellings  not  lit  for  the  lower  animals.  Unfor- 
tunately, the  same  division  of  the  land  which  led  to  the  plan  for 
these  houses  is  the  chief  obstacle  in  the  way  of  reform. 

The  houses  are  built  on  lots  25  x  100  feet,  and  g-enerally  about 
five  stories  high.  A  regulation  of  the  Board  of  Health  now  limits 
the  depth  to  ninety  feet,  so  that  there  is  a  space  of  ten  feet  by  the 


THE  NEW  YORK  TENEMENT-HOUSE  EVIL  AND  ITS  CURE     371 

width  of  the  lot  at  the  rear  for  light.  Of  course,  this  is  doubled 
when  similar  houses  are  erected  back  to  back.  In  addition  there  is 
usually  a  narrow  court,  or  well,  at  the  sides,  of  about  four  feet  wide, 
when  the  houses  are  built  side  by  side.  That  is  to  say,  each  owner 
leaves  a  recess  at  the  side  of  about  two  feet  by  forty  odd,  as  shown  in 
Figures  1  (p.  373)  and  4  (p.  384) ;  each  floor  is  arranged  for  two  fami- 
lies in  the  better  class  of  houses,  but  more  generally  four  families 
occupy  one  floor.  Each  family  has  a  room  facing  the  street  or  the 
yard,  and  from  two  to  three  rooms  lighted,  or  rather  not  lighted, 
from  the  central  slit  or  well.  The  front  rooms  measure  about 
twelve  feet  square.     The  others  about  seven  by  ten  feet. 

When  the  city  was  first  laid  out,  the  division  of  the  blocks  into 
lots  25  X  100  feet  was  entirely  unobjectionable.  The  people  gener- 
ally built  houses  of  moderate  dimensions,  lighted  at  the  front  from 
the  street,  and  in  the  rear  from  the  ydrd.  If  a  larger  dwelling  was 
required  more  land  was  taken,  and  the  house  was  made  wider  ;  but 
as  the  city  grew  the  land  increased  so  greatly  in  value  that  an  eftbrt 
was  made  to  occupy  more  of  the  25  x  100  feet  lot  than  was  consistent 
with  the  proper  lighting  of  the  interior. 

As  every  one  knows,  the  fashionable  quarter  of  the  town,  first  at 
the  Battery,  has  removed  steadily  and  rapidl}"  to  the  north.  As  the 
richer  people  vacated  their  houses  to  go  farther  uptown,  they  were 
turned  over  to  the  poor.  Houses  built  for  one  family  were  occupied 
by  twice  as  many  families  as  the  building  had  floors.  The  city 
grew  at  such  a  rate  that  it  soon  became  necessary  to  erect  new 
houses  as  tenements.  The  builders  having  been  in  the  habit  of 
building  houses  on  lots  of  25  x  100  feet,  saw  no  better  way  than  to 
continue  the  practice,  and  this  new  style  of  building  took  a  form 
which  the  shape  of  the  lot  suggested. 

This  arbitrary  division  of  the  city  into  lots  of  twenty -five  feet,  more 
or  less,  in  width  by  one  hundred  feet  deep,  and  the  custom  of  deal- 
ing in  and  building  on  plots  of  that  size,  has  worked  most  disas- 
trous results  for  the  tenement-house  population.  The  system  of 
houses  which  has  resulted  is  a  monstrous  evil,  which  can  scarcely  be 


372  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

over-estimated.  Tlie  modern  tenement  is  not  only  detrimental  to 
the  liealtli,  morals,  and  comfort  of  the  people,  but  also  a  severe  tax 
upon  their  earnings.  In  no  place  do  the  poor  pay  such  high  rents 
as  in  this  city,  and  in  no  place  are  the  accommodations  so  bad  iu 
pro^Dortion  to  the  prices  paid.     These  results  are  due  to  two  causes  : 

First.  The  excessive  value  of  the  land,  caused  by  the  shape  and 
situation  of  the  city. 

Second.  To  the  extravagant  type  of  house  which  has  resulted 
from  the  shaiDe  and  size  of  the  lot. 

Of  the  two  evils  the  latter  is  the  greater,  for  it  affects  the  health 
and  welfare  of  the  i^eojile,  besides  being  a  tax  upon  their  earnings, 
but,  fortunatel}^  it  is  the  one  which  can  be  remedied. 

All  the  tenement-houses  of  New  York,  except  corner  houses, 
certain  old  buildings,  constructed  originall}^  for  other  purposes, 
and  a  few  model  tenements,  belong  to  one  of  two  classes,  or  types. 

1.  Those  having  two  biiildings  to  the  lot,  one  being  in  the  rear 
and  known  as  the  rear  tenement,  and  which  together  cover  about 
ninety  Joer  cent,  of  its  area. 

2.  Those  of  one  building  to  the  lot,  which  usually  covers  about 
eighty  per  cent,  of  its  area  ;  in  both  cases  the  lot  being  twenty- 
five  feet  or  a  little  more  or  less  in  width  and  one  hundred  feet  deep. 

The  erection  of  houses  of  the  former  type  is  now  prohibited,  and 
those  in  existence  are  all  old.  The  building  on  that  part  of  the 
lot  nearest  the  street  formerly  served  as  a  dwelling  for  one  family, 
and  the  rear  building  owed  its  existence  to  the  greed  of  the  owner, 
who  begrudged  the  liberal  space  left  vacant  at  the  rear  of  these  old 
houses  for  light  and  air.  As  no  more  of  these  rear  tenements  can 
be  built,  we  may  dismiss  this  class  from  consideration,  with  the 
devout  hope  that  speedy  legislation  will  soon  work  their  complete 
destruction.  They  are  the  most  vicious  tenements  which  we  have, 
so  far  as  the  rear  building  is  concerned. 

Of  the  second  class  there  are  several  varieties,  all  having  a 
strong  family  resemblance.  They  are  all  long  and  narrow,  and 
mav  be  classified  as  follows  : 


THE  NEW  YORK   TENEMENT-HOUSE  EVIL  AND  ITS  CUBE     373 

1.  Houses  with  windows  only  at  the  front  and  rear,  all  the  cen- 
tral rooms  being-  dark.  A  regulation  of  the  Board  of  Health  also 
prevents  the  erection  of  more  of  this  kind.  Those  now  in  exist- 
ence, like  the  rear  tenements,  should  be  destroyed. 


Figure   1. 

2.  Houses  having-  enclosed  courts  or  wells  at  th€  sides. 

3.  Houses  having  spaces  at  the  sides  which  are  open  at  the 
rear. 

4.  Houses  having  the  characteristics  of  both  of  the  two  former 
varieties. 


374:  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT   CITIES 

Figure  1  sliows  an  upper-floor  plan  of  four  houses  belonging-  to 
these  varieties.  Thousands  upon  thousands  of  such  buildings  have 
been  built  during  the  last  few  years,  hundreds  are  now  in  the  course 
of  erection,  and  others  of  the  same  kind,  at  an  ever-increasing  rate, 
will  be  built  in  the  future  unless  something  is  done  to  prevent  it. 

A  glance  at  Figure  1  will  show  how  objectionable  this  type  of 
house  is.  The  slit  at  the  side  is  from  four  to  five  feet  wide  ;  all  in- 
terior rooms  open  upon  it,  consequently  each  bedroom  window  has 
another  bedroom  window  belonging  to  the  next  house  directly  op- 
posite to  it,  and  only  four  or  five  feet  distant ;  privacy  is  not  to  be 
thought  of  under  such  circumstances.  In  summer  these  windows 
must  be  left  open,  and  all  the  noise,  odors,  dust,  and  heat  circulate 
from  one  house  to  the  other;  these  conditions  are,  of  course, 
greatly  aggravated  when  the  slit  is  enclosed  on  all  four  sides  as  in 
the  second  and  fourth  varieties,  in  which  case  it  becomes  a  veritable 
nuisance,  not  only  dangerous  to  the  health  and  morals  of  the  occu- 
pants, but  also  to  their  lives  by  reason  of  fire,  as  it  forms  a  flue 
which  could  scarcely  be  better  contrived  for  the  quick  spreading 
of  flames  from  one  floor  to  another  on  both  sides  of  it.  Indeed  the 
danger  from  fire  is  greatly  increased  in  all  these  so-called  im- 
proved varieties  (those  having  slits  at  the  sides),  for  no  fire 
walls  are  provided  such  as  existed  in  houses  of  the  old  tjq^e,  and  a 
fire  once  started,  there  is  no  barrier  to  it  except  the  Fire  Depart- 
ment, It  may  sweep  through  the  entire  block,  for  the  narrow  slit 
forms  no  obstacle  to  the  spread  of  the  flames,  w^hich  can  leap  across 
it  and  spread  to  the  adjoining  houses,  and  so  on  through  the  entire 
row. 

It  would  seem  as  if  the  increased  danger  from  fire  alone  would 
serve  to  i3revent  the  erection  of  such  buildings,  instead  of  which  it 
simply  serves  to  increase  the  insurance  rate,  which  eventually  falls 
on  the  tenant,  as  the  landlord  must  reimburse  himself  by  charging 
more  rent  than  he  otherwise  would.  Thus  the  tenant,  besides 
having  to  risk  his  life  by  fire,  must  pay  a  higher  rent  for  the  priv- 
ilege. 


THE  NEW  YORK   TENEMENT-HOUSE  EVIL  AND  ITS  CURE     375 

If  a  method  of  building  cau  be  devised  whereby  the  cost  of  erec- 
tion and  the  danger  from  fire  will  be  lessened,  such  an  achieve- 
ment will  be  a  very  great  boon,  not  so  much  to  the  landlord  as  to 
the  working  population  of  the  city.  For  as  every  tax  on  property 
is  eventually  laid  on  the  tenant,  so  every  saving  will,  in  time,  work 
to  his  advantage.  Now,  if  it  can  also  be  shown  that  much  more  light 
and  air  can  be  given,  and  a  better  and  more  liberal  arrangement  of 
the  rooms  can  be  devised,  a  great  good  will  have  been  accomplished. 

In  order  to  work  such  a  reform  we  must  first  convince  the  pub- 
lic, or  the  powers  that  be,  of  a  fact  which  seems  to  be  too  apparent 
to  need  stating,  viz. :  No  satisfactory  tenement,  from  hoth  the  commer- 
cial and  sanitai'y  stand-point,  can  he  erected,  under  the  conditions  which 
prevail  in  Neio  York,  upon  a  lot  of  25  x  100  feet,  or  one  of  about  these 
dimensions,  for  if  a  sufficient  space  be  left  vacant  to  properly  light  the 
interior,  the  building  cannot  he  profitable,  owing  to  the  high  price  of  the 
land,  and  if  enough  land  is  covered  to  make  the  building  profitable  as 
an  investment,  the  i?iterior  cannot  be  properly  lighted  and  ventilated. 

One  would  think  that  the  truth  of  this  had  been  too  thoroughly 
demonstrated  to  need  insisting  upon.  Have  we  not  before  our  eyes 
ten  thousand  object-lessons  which  demonstrate  it  ?  Has  not  every 
conceivable  combination  of  plan  for  a  twenty-five  by  one  hundred 
feet  lot  been  tried  over  and  over  again  ?  Yet  where  is  the  satisfac- 
tory tenement-house  on  such  a  lot— that  is  to  say,  the  house  which 
is  satisfactory  from  both  the  commercial  and  sanitary  standpoint  ? 
To  meet  both  these  requirements  is  incompatible  with  lots  of  this 
size  and  shape  in  view  of  the  high  cost  of  land.  If  the  present  plan 
is  retained,  one  of  two  considerations  must  give  way  ;  less  profit 
must  be  made,  or  else  the  health,  safety,  and  comfort  of  the  tenant 
must  be  sacrificed.  It  does  not  require  much  knowledge  of  human 
nature  to  guess  which  of  these  interests  will  prevail. 

If  our  tenements  are  to  be  improved,  half-way  measures  will  not 
do.  During  the  last  fifteen  or  twenty  years  the  Board  of  Health 
has  made  feeble  efi'orts  at  reform,  and  we  now  have  houses  of  an 
improved  type,  that  is  to  say,  buildings  of  the  kind  described  above. 


376  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

It  is  tinnecessary  to  comment  farther  on  this  style  of  house.  Very 
little  imag-ination  is  required  to  picture  to  one's  self  the  wretched 
condition  of  people  forced  to  live  under  such  circumstances,  and 
the  great  danger  arising-  therefrom  to  the  health  and  morals  of  the 
community.  By  far  the  greater  number  of  the  inhabitants  of  this 
city  live  in  such  houses  :  from  sixteen  to  twenty  families  to  a  single 
lot. 

From  the  time  of  its  first  introduction  there  has  been  no  radical 
change  in  the  plan  of  these  houses.  Acres  upon  acres  have  been 
covered  by  them,  all  constructed  on  the  same  general  plan,  based 
upon  the  shape  of  the  lot  25  X  100  feet.  Strange  to  say,  they  are 
not  usually  built  singly.  In  most  cases  they  are  put  up  in  blocks 
of  from  two,  three,  and  four,  up  to  twenty  or  more,  yet  no  attempt 
is  ever  made  to  depart  from  the  stereotyi3ed  plan.  If  an  owner 
has  a  plot  one  hundred  feet  square,  instead  of  building  one  house 
he  builds  four  houses.  It  never  seems  to  have  occurred  to  anyone 
that  this  is  an  extremely  extravagant  and  wasteful  way  of  build- 
ing ;  yet  such  is  the  case,  for  the  system  involves  the  erection 
of  an  unnecessary  amount  of  wall,  partitions,  and  corridor,  also  an 
unnecessary  amount  of  entrances,  halls,  etc.,  and  a  consequent  loss 
of  room.  So  great  is  the  loss  from  these  causes  that  it  is  possi- 
ble to  plan  buildings  of  a  different  type  which,  Avhile  having  the 
same  amount  of  rentable  space  in  rooms,  shall  cover  so  much 
less  of  the  lot  as  to  leave  an  abundant  space  free  for  light  and  air. 
Covering  a  smaller  area  they  will  cost  less  to  erect,  so  that  prop- 
erly lighted  and  well-ventilated  apartments  can  be  supplied  at  less 
than  it  costs  to  build  the  dreadful  affairs  which  we  now  have. 

The  difficulty  has  arisen,  and  persistently  flourishes,  because  we 
are  ignorant  of  the  art  of  economical  planning.  For  who  would 
waste  money  in  erecting  unnecessary  walls,  halls,  etc.,  if  he  knew 
how  to  obtain  the  same  amount  of  rentable  space  much  better 
lighted  without  them  ?  By  the  present  system  the  ground  is  en- 
cumbered, the  light  obstructed,  and  the  building  rendered  un- 
healthy and  unfit  to  live  in  ;  all  of  which  is  accomplished  at  an  in- 


TUE  NEW  YORK  TENEMENT-HOUSE  EVIL  AND  ITS  CUBE     377 

creased  expense  over  what  the  same  rentable  space,  well  lighted, 
might  be  ol)taiDed  for.  Great  svims  of  money  are  yearly  squan- 
dered upon  making-  the  buildings  unfit  to  live  in.  Then  other  great 
riums  are  contributed  by  charitable  people  to  relieve  the  resulting 
distress.  Hospitals  are  kept  full,  children  die,  misery,  disease,  and 
crime  flourish,  because  the  i^eople  are  huddled  tog'ether  without 
sufficient  light  and  air. 

The  art  of  commercial  or  economical  planning  is  an  exact  science 
very  little  understood  anywhere,  and  least  of  all  here.  It  is  a  curi- 
ous fact  that,  although  thousands  of  books  have  been  written  upon 
architecture,  there  are  practically  none  on  i)lanning,  which  is  un- 
questionably the  most  important  part  of  architecture. 

One  of  the  two  chief  difficulties  in  economical  planning  lies  in 
the  admission  of  light  to  the  interior.  If  the  building  is  to  be 
erected  on  valuable  land,  that  architect  shows  the  greatest  skill 
who  so  arranges  the  plan  that  the  interior  shall  receive  a  sufficient 
amount  of  light  with  the  least  expenditure  of  open  space.  If 
courts  enclosed  on  all  sides  are  used,  the  best  results  can  be  ob- 
tained from  those  which  are  about  square,  for  we  can  imagine  the 
court  drawn  out  into  the  form  of  an  oblong  parallelogram,  always  of 
the  same  superficial  area,  but  finally  becoming  a  slit  too  narrow  for 
the  transmission  of  light.  The  shape  of  the  lots  upon  which  our 
tenements  are  built  forces  the  designer  to  choose  the  most  uneco- 
nomical form  of  court.  Thus  he  gets  the  least  amount  of  light 
from  the  space  left  vacant. 

The  second  great  difficulty  in  economical  planning  is  to  obtain 
the  best  results  as  regards  the  strength  of  the  building  and  the 
convenient  disposition  of  the  rooms  with  the  least  expenditure  of 
building  materials  and  the  least  waste  of  floor  in  corridors,  pas- 
sages, etc. ;  economy  of  materials,  means  a  double  saving,  for  not 
only  is  the  cost  of  such  materials  saved,  but  also  the  space  which 
they  occupy.  The  shape  of  our  tenement-houses  forces  the  de- 
signer to  choose  the  most  uneconomical  construction  ;  as  the  houses 
must  be  long  and  narrow  they  require  the  maximum  of  wall  and 


378  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

also  the  maximum  of  passages  or  corridors,  for  to  reach  all  parts  of 
a  long-  narrow  building-  there  must  be  long-  passage-ways,  while  if 
the  building-  is  compact  and  square  such  corridors  can  be  reduced 
to  a  minimum. 

In  short,  no  worse  type  of  plan  could  well  be  devised.  There  is 
absolutely  nothing  to  recommend  it  either  as  regards  economy  or 
healthfuluess.  It  seems  as  if  the  builders  had  gone  out  of  the  way 
to  produce  the  worst  possible  results.  With  the  greatest  expendi- 
ture of  materials  they  obtain  the  least  amount  of  rentable  space  in 
proportion  to  the  area  covered,  and  what  area  is  not  covered  is  so  ar- 
ranged as  to  afford  almost  the  least  proportional  light  to  the  interior. 

In  planning  houses  for  the  poor  economy  of  space  is  of  the  most 
vital  importance,  for  any  waste  in  the  arrangement  lays  an  added 
burden  on  people  least  able  to  bear  it.  Our  tenement-house  sys- 
tem is  the  result  of  accident.  No  intelligent  thought  has  been 
bestowed  on  the  problem,  or  at  least  all  such  thought  has  been 
wasted  upon  the  25  X  100  feet  plan,  where  the  conditions  are  such 
as  to  preclude  the  possibility  of  a  successful  solution. 

In  the  great  cities  of  Europe  nothing  of  the  kind  is  found.  In 
London  the  houses  for  the  poor,  if  on  narrow  lots,  are  low  and 
shallow,  having  rooms  opening  to  the  front  and  rear,  a  type  of 
house  only  compatible  with  low-priced  land.  In  Paris,  within  the 
fortifications,  where  land  is  dear,  what  do  we  find?  The  houses  are 
almost  all  built  upon  plots  of  land  of  from  seventy-five  to  one  hun- 
dred feet  in  width.  To  those  who  have  not  the  requisite  knowledge 
or  skill  to  solve  the  problem  for  themselves,  this  fact  should  be  of 
great  significance,  for  the  French  are  universally  admitted  to  be 
the  most  logical  and  economical  of  builders,  and  certainly  in  no 
country  is  the  education  of  the  architect  so  thorough  and  the  skill 
displayed  in  planning  so  great.  If,  then,  the  French  do  not  build 
upon  narrow  strips  of  land,  it  is  because  such  a  method  is  not  eco- 
nomical and  is  inconsistent  with  the  best  results. 

The  first  law  of  economical  planning  is  this :  The  more  nearly 
one  can  keep  to  the  square  the  more  economical  the  house,  a  truth 


THE  NEW  YORK  TENEMENT-HOUSE  EVIL  AND  ITS  CUBE     379 

SO  evident  that  anyone  but  a  New  York  builder  ou^lit  to  grasp  it 
without  difficulty,  and  one  which  needs  no  other  demonstration  than 
to  picture  to  one's  self  a  square  house,  then  to  imag-ine  it  drawn  out 
into  an  oblong-,  always  occupying-  the  same  area ;  as  it  increases  in 
length  it  diminishes  in  breadth.  One  can  imagine  the  house  drawn 
out  until  it  becomes  all  walls.  Every  foot  of  length  which  is  added 
at  the  expense  of  breadth  adds  to  the  amount  of  walls  required  and 
deducts  just  as  much  from  the  area  enclosed,  besides  rendering 
corridors  necessary,  which  might  otherwise  be  dispensed  with. 

The  fact  that  so  much  of  the  land  is  held  in  narrow  oblong-  par- 
cels is  our  misfortune  ;  but  the  obstacle  is  not  insuperable,  as  shown 
by  our  office  buildings.  The  land  down-town  was  held  under  the 
same  conditions,  but  when  it  became  apparent  that  it  was  not  eco- 
nomical to  erect  office  buildings  ou  lots  of  the  standard  size,  the 
difficulty  was  gradually  overcome,  and  such  buildings  are  now  al- 
most always  built  on  lots  of  greater  dimensions.  The  tenement- 
house  evil  is  staring  us  in  the  face,  and  the  community  is  daily  be- 
coming more  and  more  alive  to  the  imperative  necessity  for  reform. 
A  desperate  disease  needs  a  desperate  remedy.  It  should  be  made 
unprofitable  to  erect  the  kind  of  tenement  we  now  have.  If  it  is 
clearly  shown  that  the  present  evils  can  be  overcome  by  the  adop- 
tion of  a  different  type  of  building,  erected  on  larger  lots,  certain 
restrictions  established  by  law  would  in  time  bring-  about  the  de- 
sired change. 

In  order  to  show  how  extravagant  the  present  type  of  plan  is,  let 
us  take  a  hypothetical  case.  Suppose  that  it  is  desired  to  build  a 
small  habitation  in  an  open  space.  Here  we  can  say  definitely  that 
the  most  economical  rectangular  plan  is  an  exact  square,  for  every 
deviation  from  it  involves  the  erection  of  more  wall  to  enclose  a 
given  area  in  rooms. 

Let  Figure  2  (p.  380)  be  the  plan  of  such  a  building,  of  the  dimen- 
sions shown,  which  we  will  call  the  first  type.  The  number  of  running 
feet  of  wall  necessary  to  inclose  it  is  roughly  4  X  20  =  80  feet.  The 
area  inclosed  is  20  X  20  =  400  square  feet.    Now,  any  deviation  from 


380 


THE  POOR  IN  GBEAT  CITIES 


First  type. 


1  -^-H 

J 

J 

1  ^j 

-- 

Second  type. 


this  plan  will  be  found  to  be  more  extravagant,  as  shown  in  Figure 
3,  which  we  will  call  the  second  type.  In  this  case  we  have  a  quad- 
rilateral inclosing-  the  same  area,  measur- 
ing 10  X  40  feet.  The  number  of  running 
feet  of  wall  necessary  to  inclose  this  is  2 
X  40  +  2  X  10  =  100  feet.  Area  inclosed  is 
10  X  40  =  400  square  feet  as  before.  Thus 
there  is  a  saving  of  twenty  per  cent,  in 
wall  by  the  former  method.  Moreover,  no 
corridor  is  required  by  the  first  plan.  The 
corridor  is  of  no  use  to  the  tenant,  except 
c        „  as  a  passage,  and  it  costs  as  much  to  build 

as  a  like  area  in  rooms.  In  the  dwelling 
of  the  first  type,  divided  as  shown  in  Figure  2,  let  A  be  the  living- 
room,  B,  C,  and  D  the  bedrooms.  Any  of  these 
rooms  can  be  reached  directly  from  A.  Also  in  the 
dAvelling  of  the  second  tyjDe,  as  shown  in  Figure 
3,  let  A  be  the  living-room,  and  B,  C,  and  D  bed- 
rooms. To  reach  any  of  these  rooms  from  A,  with- 
out going  through  other  rooms,  requires  a  corri- 
dor of  3  feet  X  20  feet,  or  60  square  feet.  There  is 
thus  a  saving  of  space  on  this  score,  between  the 
two  plans,  of  fifteen  per  cent.  There  is  also  a  sav- 
ing of  fifteen  per  cent,  in  the  number  of  running 
feet  of  interior  partitions  required  to  separate  the 
various  rooms. 

As  a  more  complete  demonstration  of  the  im- 
portance of  this  principle  let  us  suppose  these 
two  figures  to  be  the  plans  of  one-story  structures 
with  interior  dimensions  as  given,  and  having  ex- 
terior walls  of  brick  one  foot  thick  ;  and  that  the 
cost  to  erect  the  one  shown  in  Figure  3  would  be 
twelve  cents  per  cubic  foot.  The  contents  of  the  building,  suppos- 
ing it  to  be  twelve  feet  high,  would  be  6,048  cubic  feet,  and  the  cost 


Figure  3. 


THE  NEW  YORK  TENEMENT-HOUSE  EVIL  AND  ITS  CUBE     381 

to  erect  $725.  Now,  let  us  suppose  that  the  cost  of  the  other  would 
be  at  the  same  rate,  less  the  saving-  effected  in  the  amount  of  wall 
required  to  inclose  it.  Its  contents  would  be  5,808  cubic  feet, 
which,  at  twelve  cents  per  cubic  foot,  equals  $697  ;  from  which  de- 
duct the  cost  of  20  running  feet  of  wall  12  feet  high  ;  estimating 
the  cost  of  the  brick-work  at  $12  per  thousand  brick  laid,  this  would 
amount  to  $60,  making-  the  net  cost  $637.  Now,  by  the  first  type 
we  have  380  square  feet  of  available  floor-space  in  the  rooms  after 
deducting  space  occupied  by  partitions,  etc.,  and  in  the  second  type 
only  317  square  feet  of  such  space.  By  the  first  type  each  square 
foot  of  rentable  floor-space  in  rooms  would  cost,  to  erect,  $16.76, 
while  by  the  second  type  each  square  foot  of  such  space  would  cost 
$22.87.  Therefore  there  is  a  saving  in  the  first  type  over  the  second 
type  of  more  than  twentj'-six  per  cent.,  to  say  nothing  of  the  fact 
that  it  covers  less  ground,  an  item  of  great  importance  in  cities. 

The  comparison  might  be  pushed  further,  and  an  additional 
saving  calculated  on  the  partitions  necessary  to  separate  the  rooms, 
cost  of  foundations,  and  other  matters,  all  in  favor  of  the  first  t3q3e  ; 
but  enough  has  been  shown  to  demonstrate  the  principle  involved  ; 
and  one  may  say  here,  by  way  of  parenthesis,  that,  if  the  art  of  com- 
mercial or  economical  planning  were  understood  by  our  architects, 
enough  money  might  be  saved  in  a  few  years  on  buildings  erected 
in  this  city  to  endow  all  the  charitable  institutions  which  we  have. 
The  Building  Department  records  show  that  the  value  of  tenements, 
flats,  etc.,  erected  in  this  city  during  the  last  fourteen  years,  amounts 
to  three  hundred  and  twenty-five  million  dollars :  of  this  amount  at 
least  fifteen  per  cent,  might  have  been  saved,  or  nearly  fifty  million 
dollars,  on  this  one  class  of  buildings.  The  money  has  been  worse 
than  throM'n  away,  because  the  vast  amount  of  useless  masonry 
which  these  millions  represent  has  served  no  other  purpose  than  to 
obstruct  the  light  and  render  the  buildings  unhealthy  and  expensive. 

While  it  is  possible  to  build  dwellings  exactly  according  to  the 
first  type  in  the  country,  where  the  cost  of  land  is  not  a  consider- 
ation, and  there  may  be  an  open  space  on  all  sides,  it  is  not  practi- 


382  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

cable  to  so  arrange  them  in  the  city,  where  the  same  conditions  do 
not  prevail.  But,  as  will  be  shown,  in  order  to  arrive  at  the  best 
results  we  must  conform  to  this  law  as  nearly  as  circumstances  will 
admit.  The  more  nearly  we  can  approach  to  the  first  type  the  more 
economical  will  be  the  plan. 

Now,  the  plan  of  our  tenements,  of  necessity,  owing-  to  the  shape 
of  the  lot,  are  based  upon  the  second  type.  The  plans  which  are 
submitted  in  Figures  5,  6,  and  7  (pp.  385,  388,  389),  are  based  upon 
the  first  type.  It  will  be  shown  that  the  actual  saving  by  these 
plans  over  those  in  common  use,  while  not  so  great  as  between  the 
hypothetical  plans  shown  in  Figures  2  and  3,  is  still  very  consider- 
able. In  the  present  tenement  there  is  no  proper  provision  for 
light  and  air.  In  the  plans  submitted  there  is  such  provision,  yet, 
owing  to  the  saving  effected  by  the  method  of  jDlanning,  the  cost 
per  square  foot  of  available  space  by  these  plans  would  be  much 
less  than  by  the  present  vicious  method. 

The  law  provides  that  in  buildings  of  this  class  a  certain  percent- 
age of  the  area  of  the  land  shall  be  left  vacant  for  light  and  air. 
Again,  a  certain  percentage  of  the  area  of  the  lots  must  be  occupied 
by  supports ;  that  is,  the  constructional  parts,  such  as  walls  and 
partitions  ;  there  must  also  be  staircases  and  means  of  communica- 
tion, that  is  to  say,  parts  occuijied  in  public.  What  is  left  after 
these  deductions  have  been  made  is  the  kernel  of  the  nut,  so  to 
speak.  It  forms  the  net  rentable  area  or  space  in  rooms.  Now, 
that  plan  is  the  most  economical  which  gives  the  greatest  amount 
of  such  rentable  space  with  the  least  expenditure  of  building  ma- 
terial and  the  least  waste  of  space  in  the  parts  to  be  used  in  public, 
always  provided  that  the  necessary  strength  is  secured.  But  the 
value  of  the  rentable  space  depends  largely  upon  the  way  it  is 
lighted  and  upon  the  convenient  arrangement  of  the  rooms. 

In  comparing  the  relative  value  of  two  plans,  therefore,  we  must 
take  into  consideration  : 

1.  The  projjortion  which  the  net  available  rentable  area  bears 
to  the  whole  gross  area  of  the  buildino:. 


r 


THE  NEW  YORK  TENEMENT-HOUSE  EVIL  AND  ITS   CURE     383 

2.  The  way  this  rentable  portion  is  lighted,  and  how  the  rooms 
are  arranged  with  reference  to  the  convenience  of  those  who  are  to 
occupy  them. 

The  absurdity  of  building  tenements  of  the  ordinary  kind  can  be 
understood  by  the  following  comparison  between  the  plans  shown  in 
Figures  4  and  5.  Figure  4  shows  the  i^lan  of  four  tenements  occu- 
pying a  plot  one  hundred  feet  square  ;  Figure  5  shows  one  tene- 
ment planued  as  nearly  as  possible  upon  the  S3'stem  illustrated  by 
Figure  2  and  designed  for  a  plot  also  one  hundred  feet  square. 

"We  will  call  Figure  4  plan  A,  and  Figure  5  plan  B ;  both  have 
been  carefully  drawn  to  the  same  scale  and  the  following  calcula- 
tion accurately  made.  For  convenience  walls  are  taken  at  one  foot 
and  partitions  at  six  inches  thick.  The  walls  between  the  houses 
■  in  plan  A  are  supposed  to  be  party  walls. 


Plan  A. 

Plan  A  represents  four  houses  of 
the  ordinary  type. 

Net  rentable  area  on  each  floor,  ex- 
clusive of  walls,  partitions,  stairs,  cor- 
ridors, and  other  public  jaarts,  5,550 
square  feet. 

Left  vacant  for  light  and  air,  2,060 
square  feet. 

Space  occupied  by  constructive 
parts:  walls,  partitions,  etc.,  1,400 
square  feet. 

Sj^ace  occupied  by  stairs,  corridors, 
and  other  public  i^arts,  990  square 
feet. 

Has  no  fire-walls,  but  a  fire  start- 
ing in  one  house  can  leap  across  the 
narrow  courts  and  sweep  through  the 
block. 


Plan  B. 

Plan  B  represents  one  house  de- 
signed for  four  lots. 

Net  rentable  area  on  each  floor,  ex- 
clusive of  walls,  partitions,  stairs,  cor- 
ridors, and  other  public  j)arts,  5,500 
square  feet. 

Left  vacant  for  light  and  air,  3,000 
square  feet.  In  favor  of  this  jilan, 
thirty  jier  cent. 

Space  occupied  by  constructive 
parts:  walls,  partitions,  etc.,  1,100 
square  feet.  In  favor  of  this  jilau 
twenty-one  per  cent. 

Space  occuijied  by  stairs,  corridors, 
and  other  public  i^ai'ts,  433  square 
feet.  In  favor  of  tliis  plan,  fifty-six 
per  cent. 

Has  four  nnpierced  fire-walls  from 
top  to  bottom,  affording  protection 
against  the  spread  of  fire.  The  courts 
at  the  side  are  so  wide  that  the  flames 
could  not  under  ordinary  circumstances 
spread  from  one  building  to  another. 


384 


THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 


Tlak  a. 

Has  no  brick  walls  around  the 
staircases,  which  are  thus  uuisrotected 
against  fire. 

Five-sevenths  of  the  rooms  open  on 


Plan  B. 

Has  brick  walls  around  area  enclos- 
ing each  staircase,  so  that  it  can  be 
made  fireproof. 

No  rooms  have  windows  opening  on 


Rfiirl.jit  tine 


102 

STREET. 
Figure  4 — Plan  A. 


-- ?i 


narrow  shafts  four  feet  eight  inches 
wide,  which  cannot  provide  suflRcient 
light  for  the  lower  floors,  but  which 
act  as  an  excellent  conductor  of  noise, 
odors,  etc.,  at  ortlinary  times,  and  as  a 
fine  for  spread  of  flames  in  case  of  fire. 
There  is  only  one   water-closet   to 


a  court  less  than  eighteen  feet  wide. 
The  central  court  measures  thirty  feet 
square,  so  that  every  room  would  be 
abundantly  lighted  directly  from  the 
outer  air. 

Each  apartment  has  its  own  water- 


THE  NEW  YORK  TENEMENT-UOUSE  EVIL  AND  ITS  CUBE     385 


Plan  A.  Plan  B. 

eacli  two  apartments,  and  as  these  wa-  closet,  opening  directly  upon  the  outer 
ter-closots  open  directly  from  the  pub-  air,  from  which  it  is  reached  by  means 
lie  hall,  they  are  apt  to  be  a  nuisance.       of  a  balcony. 

No  lift  is  provided.  There  is  one  lift  to  each  three  apart- 

ments. 


Rear  Lot  Line 


;$$^S^^^^ 


STREET. 
Figure  5-Plan   B. 


One-half  the  aiaartments  only  are 
front  apartments. 


There  is    only  one   sink   for   four 
apartments. 

Many  of  the  bedrooms  can  only  be 
25 


Five-sixths  of  the  ai)artments  are 
front  apartments,  either  facing  the 
street  or  courts  recessed  from  the 
street. 

Each  apartment  has  its  own  sink. 

Every  bedroom  can  be  entered  dir 


3S6  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

Plan  A.  Plan  B. 

entered  by  passing  through  other  bed-  rectly  from  the  living-room  or  kitchen, 

rooms  or  the  public  corridor.  without    passing    through   any   other 

bedroom. 
The  stairs  are  poorly  lighted  from  The  stairs  and  landings  are  abun- 

a  court  about  eleven  feet  square,  and  dantly  lighted  from  a  court  thirty  feet 

the  passages  are  not  so  well  lighted  as  square,  and  there  are  no  corridors, 
the  stairs. 

It  will  be  seen  that  in  tlie  case  of  the  two  plans  above  compared 
the  net  rentable  area  is  the  same  for  both,  but  that  the  four  houses 
of  the  ordinary  type  require  twenty-one  per  cent,  more  building- 
material  with  which  to  erect  them  than  would  be  required  in  the 
other  case,  and  that  the  space  allotted  to  parts  used  in  common  or 
by  the  public  is  fifty-six  per  cent,  greater.  Of  the  total  area  of  the 
lot,  10,000  square  feet,  2,390  square  feet,  or  nearly  twenty-four  per 
cent,  of  the  whole,  is  required  on  each  floor  for  these  purposes, 
while  with  plan  B  only  a  little  over  fifteen  per  cent,  of  the  area  is 
thus  used  ;  the  saving-  being  effected  in  the  economy  of  the  planning. 

It  will  also  be  noticed  that  although  the  space  left  vacant  for  light 
and  air  is  almost  one-half  more,  or  nearly  one  thousand  square  feet 
greater,  in  plan  B  than  in  plan  A,  yet  the  amount  of  rentable  space 
in  rooms  is  the  same  in  both ;  but  even  this  increased  area  does  not 
adequately  represent  the  relative  advantage  of  the  former  plan  over 
the  latter  in  this  respect,  for  the  light  is  concentrated  in  plan  B  in 
large  bodies.  The  lighting  of  a  building  does  not  depend  so  much 
upon  the  area  of  the  unoccupied  space  as  upon  how  that  space  is 
managed.  Thus  the  central  court  in  plan  B  is  smaller  than  the 
united  area  of  the  light  wells  in  plan  A ;  but  the  rooms  open- 
ing upon  the  wells  will  receive  an  insufficient  amount  of  light, 
while  those  opening  upon  the  court  shown  in  plan  B,  where  the 
least  dimension  is  thirty  feet,  will  be  well  lighted.  Indeed,  every 
room  upon  this  latter  plan  would  receive  an  abundance  of  light, 
for  none  of  them  have  windows  opening  upon  a  space  less  than 
eighteen  feet  wide,  while  the  windows  of  most  of  the  rooms  of  the 
other  plan  open  upon  a  space  only  about  four  feet  wide ;  nor  do 


THE  JVEW  YORK  TENEMENT-HOUSE  EVIL  AND  ITS  CURE     387 

these  widths,  either,  represent  the  relative  amount  of  lig-ht,  as  up 
to  a  certain  point  the  light  increases  in  a  greater  proportion  than 
the  increase  in  the  width  of  the  court.  Also,  a  court,  unless  very- 
large,  which  is  open  on  one  side  is  of  very  much  more  service  than 
one  of  the  same  dimensions  closed  on  all  sides.  The  difference, 
then,  in  the  lighting  of  the  two  plans  is  out  of  all  proportion  to  the 
increased  light  area. 

A  building  constructed  in  accordance  with  plan  B  would  be 
properly  lighted  ;  tenements  of  the  ordinary  type  are  only  properly 
lighted  at  the  two  ends.  The  available  rentable  space  cannot  be 
compared,  for  one  is  fit  for  human  habitation  and  the  other  is  not. 

It  is  not  fair  to  compare  the  relative  economy  of  plans  of  such 
different  characters,  still  plan  B  can  well  bear  such  comparison. 
Plan  A  has  no  fire-walls  or  walls  around  staircases,  yet  to  erect  the 
four  buildings  shown  would  require  more  than  one  hundred  running 
feet  of  wall  over  what  would  be  needed  in  the  erection  of  one  build- 
ing of  the  kind  shown  in  plan  B.  The  cubical  contents  of  this  build- 
ing, estimating  its  height  at  60  feet,  would  be  420,000  cubic  feet ; 
assuming  the  cost  at  fifteen  cents  per  cubic  foot,  the  total  cost  of 
building  would  be  $63,000.  The  cubical  contents  of  the  four  build- 
ings shown  in  plan  A,  assuming  that  the  height  was  the  same, 
would  be  476,400  cubic  feet,  and  the  cost  to  erect  at  fifteen  cents 
per  cubic  foot,  $71,460. 

From  the  above  it  will  be  seen  that  the  building  shown  by  plan 
B,  although  infinitely  better  lighted,  and  containing  the  same 
amount  of  rentable  floor  area,  would  cost  less  to  build  than  the 
other,  even  if  both  were  calculated  at  the  same  rate  per  cubic  foot ; 
but  this  would  not  be  the  case,  for  while  850  running  feet  of  wall 
is  required  by  plan  A,  only  750  running  feet  of  such  wall  is  re- 
quired by  plan  B,  nor  is  the  increased  amount  of  wall  required  by 
plan  A  any  advantage  for  fire  or  otherwise,  but  rather  the  contrary. 
For  it  will  be  seen  that,  while  there  are  four  divisions  which  might 
be  called  separate  buildings  in  both  cases,  yet  in  plan  B  the  divid- 
ing walls  are  true  fire-walls,  unpierced,  extending  from  top  to  bot- 


3SS 


THE  POOR  IX  GREAT  CITIES 


torn,  -wliile  in  tlie  case  of  plan  A,  tlie  diTiding-  walls  are  pierced  by 
■windows,  only  about  four  feet  distant  from  those  in  the  next  house, 
so  that  these  walls  offer  no  security  against  fire. 

In  addition  to  the  saving-  of  100  running  feet  of  brick  wall  ex- 


Rear  Lot  Lr.e 


.r5-3 : 


'mUL 


tending  from  foundation  to  roof,  there  is  another  saving  of  330  run- 
ning feet  of  partition,  plastered  on  both  sides,  on  each  floor ;  the 
cost  of  these  two  items  would  amount  to  over  $5,000,  which  should 
be  deducted  from  the  estimated  cost  \)\  plan  B.     Now  we  have : 


TUE  XEW  YORK  TEyEilEyT-HOrSE  EVIL  ASD  ITS  CUBE     aS9 


Net  cost  of  building #71,160 

Add  cost  of  land,  say  8^,000  per 
lot,  or  832,000  in  both  cases 32,000 


$103,460 


PLA5   B. 

$58,000 

32,000 

$90,000 


Fgu-e  7 — Pa,i  D. 


Thus  the  well-ligrhted  space  shown  on  phin  B  could  be  rented 
for  t\lK>ut  thii-teen  per  cent,  less  than  the  improperly  ligrhted  quar- 
ters shown  on  plan  A,  and  the  owner  wotdd  still  receive  the  same 
rate  of  interest  on  the  investment  ;  or  the  owner  of  a  house  planneil 


390  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

according  to  plan  B  conld  give  his  tenants  thirteen  per  cent,  more 
room  for  the  same  rent  than  the  owner  of  a  bnikling  planned  ac- 
cording to  plan  A,  and  still  receive  the  same  rate  of  interest  on  the 
investment. 

The  above  comparisons  have  been  made  between  four  ordinary- 
houses,  and  one  building  designed  for  a  lot  100  feet  square  ;  but 
the  same  principles  which  govern  plan  B  are  applicable  to  a  cer- 
tain extent  to  buildings  intended  for  lots  of  smaller  dimensions,  as 
shown  in  j^lans  C  and  D.  Plan  C  is  for  a  lot  75  X  100  feet,  and  plan 
D  for  one  50  X  100  feet.  While  the  best  results  are  obtained  the 
more  nearly  we  can  approach  to  the  square,  yet  fairly  economical 
plans  can  be  made  for  buildings  on  lots  not  less  than  50  feet 
wide. 

There  are  two  methods  of  lighting  a  building :  one  may  be  called 
the  independent  method,  and  the  other  the  dependent  method.  In 
the  first  case  the  owner  depends  entirely  uj^on  his  own  property  for 
light,  in  the  other  case  he  counts  more  or  less  u^aon  his  neighbor's 
land. 

The  first  is  the  French  method.  Buildings  in  France  are  gen- 
erally jirovided  with  a  central  court  of  sufficient  size  to  properly 
light  the  house.  The  latter  method  is  that  in  vogue  in  this  city  ; 
we  depend  for  light  partly  upon  the  area  of  unoccupied  space  on 
our  own  land,  and  partly  upon  what  we  hope  our  neighbors  will 
leave  unoccupied.  The  latter  method  is  the  more  economical,  pro- 
vided one  is  sure  that  the  adjoining  property-holder  will  kindly 
adapt  his  structure  to  the  needs  of  our  building.  Unfortunately,  it 
is  seldom  one  can  depend  upon  such  consideration. 

If  tenement-houses  are  to  receive  a  part  of  their  light  from  the 
outside,  then  restrictions  should  be  placed  upon  the  adjoining  land 
which  will  insure  this  light. 

It  will  be  noticed  that  in  plans  B,  C,  and  D  a  sj)ace  9  feet  wide  is 
left  at  the  side  of  the  house,  extending  from  the  street  to  a  line 
about  30  feet  from  the  rear  of  the  lot  ;  a  similar  space  should  be 
required  to  be  left  unoccupied  at  the  side  of  all  tenement-houses, 


THE  NEW   YORK   TENEMENT-HOUSE  EVIL  AND  ITS  CURE     391 

or  buikliug-s  which  adjoin  tenement-houses ;  such  a  reg-ukxtiou 
woukl  amount  to  a  prohibition  in  the  case  of  lots  only  25  feet  wide, 
which  ought  to  be  the  case. 

If  houses  are  to  be  built  of  the  present  type,  there  is  only  one 
possible  way  to  make  them  habitable — that  is,  to  reduce  the  depth 
of  the  buildings  to  such  an  extent  as  will  make  them  unprofitable 
for  tenement  purposes.  Something  more  must  be  required  than  a 
mere  percentage  of  unoccupied  space.  As  shown  in  jjlans  B,  C,  and 
D,  about  seventy  per  cent,  of  the  lot  may  be  covered  and  the  build- 
ing- thoroughly  lighted  in  every  part,  but  to  insure  such  a  result  the 
lot  must  measure  at  least  50  feet  in  width. 

The  power  to  make  the  necessary  restriction  is  already  in  the 
hands  of  the  Board  of  Health,  and  needs  only  to  be  enforced,  A 
simple  regulation  requiring  space  to  be  left  vacant  at  the  side  of  the 
building,  like  that  now  enforced  for  such  space  at  the  rear,  would 
quickly  bring  about  a  change  of  plan.  Such  a  restriction  would  re- 
sult in  the  adoption  of  buildings  of  the  type  shown  in.plans  B,  C, 
and  D,  and  the  New  York  tenement-house  problem  would  be  solved 
so  far  as  new  buildings  are  concerned.  Many  years  would  be  re- 
quired to  bring  about  a  complete  change,  but  the  buildings  al- 
ready constructed  are  of  such  a  flimsy  character  that  they  cannot 
last  forever  ;  moreover,  when  it  is  once  realized  what  a  great  econ- 
omy there  is  in  this  type  of  planning  over  the  one  in  ordinary  use, 
many  owners  will  be  inclined  to  rebuild. 

In  plan  B  there  are  three  apartments  for  each  lot  occupied,  or 
twelve  in  all,  while  in  plan  A,  there  are  sixteen.  In  other  words, 
the  apartments  of  plan  B  have  about  twenty-five  per  cent,  more 
floor  space  than  those  of  plan  A,  The  rooms  are,  upon  an  average, 
twenty-flve  per  cent,  larger,  which  ought  to  be  the  case.  To  crowd 
four  families  on  each  floor  of  a  twenty-five  foot  house  is  not  right  or 
decent ;  nor  is  it  right  to  provide  bedrooms  7X9  feet  which  never 
receive  a  ray  of  sunlight,  and  which  must  often  be  occupied  by  sev- 
eral people  continuously.  The  rooms  shown  on  plan  B  are  small 
enough  in  all  conscience,  but  what  an  improvement  over  those  of 


392  THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES 

the  ordinary  kind.     Not  only  are  tliey  one-quarter  larger  and  well 
lighted,  but  also  more  conveniently  arranged. 

Notwithstanding  their  twenty-five  per  cent,  larger  size,  proper 
light  and  ventilation,  greater  security  against  fire  and  better  ar- 
rangement, these  apartments  could  doubtless  be  rented  for  the  same 
price  as  those  of  the  kind  we  now  have,  owing  to  the  greater  econ- 
omy of  the  i^lan,  and  to  the  fact  that  there  would  be  fewer  vacan- 
cies than  is  usually  the  case,  and  loss  of  rent  from  unoccupied  apart- 
ments would  count  less  as  a  factor  in  estimating  the  returns  from 
the  property. 

The  philanthropic  method  of  reform  can  accomplish  but  little. 
"What  if  a  hundred  or  five  hundred  landlords  erect  model  tenements 
and  rent  them  at  a  low  rate  ?  Such  relief  would  only  be  a  drop  in 
the  bucket,  so  long  as  the  vast  majority  of  owners  continue  the 
erection  of  houses  of  the  kind  we  now  have. 

Reform  can  only  be  brought  about  through  the  pockets  of  the 
landlords.  Show  them  how  they  can  build  good  houses  for  less 
than  it  now  costs  them  to  build  bad  ones.  Show  them  how  they  can 
get  the  same  amount  of  desirable  properly  lighted  fioor  space  at 
less  cost  than  they  have  heretofore  paid  for  undesirable,  improperly 
lighted  floor  space.  This  is  to  strike  at  the  root  of  the  evil.  Then 
let  the  Board  of  Health  do  its  part  to  bring  about  the  change.  For 
twenty  years  this  body  has  been  temporizing  with  the  subject,  and 
with  the  best  intentions  has  accomplished  little.  It  is  now  high 
time  to  call  a  halt  and  to  root  out  the  evil,  making  use  of  the  pow- 
ers which  years  ago  were  vested  in  it  for  this  very  purpose. 


INDEX 


Addams,  Miss  Jane,  220. 

Aleu^on    School  of    Typography,    279, 

283. 
Alien  paupers  in  New  York  State,  345- 

347. 
Aliens,  assimilation  of,  88. 
Almshouses  in  cities,  353,  354. 

foreign-born    inmates   of,    in   New 
Yorl<  State,  348,  344. 
Andover  Association,  182,  190,  191. 
Andover  House,  the  work  of,  in  Boston, 
177-194. 

beginning  of  tlie  work,  186. 

Boys'  Clubs,  186-188. 

bureau  of  information,  as  a,  191. 

Charity  Organization,  the   intluence 
of,  179,  180. 

old  charity,  the  spirit  of,  178. 

field  of  observation,  190. 

growth  of  the  movement,  192,  193. 

location,  182,  183. 

lower  and  higher  pliilanthropy,  177. 

origin  of  the  name,  182. 

resident  group,  the,  and  associates, 
181,  182,  183,  184. 

value  of  resident  work,  191,  192. 

scientific  work,  189,  190. 

social  centre  as  a,  188,  189. 

tenement-house  question,  the,  189. 

Woods,  Robert  A.,  184. 

four  years  of  work,  193,  194. 

principles  of  work,  180, 181, 184-186. 
Apprentices,  106,  109,  286. 
Arabians  in  Chicago,  205. 
Associated  charities,  the,  180. 


Balch,  Colonel  George  T.,  111. 
Bamberger,  Professor  Gabriel,  221. 
Barnett,   Rev.    Samuel   A.,    founder    of 

Toynbee  Hall,  16,  17,  195. 
Bartholdi  Creche,  the,  148. 
Bates,  Eli,  211. 
Baxter,  Sylvester,  190. 
Besant,  Walter,  23. 

Bigotry,  breaking  down  in  the  tenements, 
57. 

a  hindrance  to  co-operation,  85. 
Birtwell,  C.  W.,  191. 
"  Bitter  Cry  of  Outcast  London,  The,"  3, 

16. 
Bohemians,  the,  101,  102,  105,  106. 
Booth,  Charles,  38,  40,  181. 
Boston.     See  Andover  House. 
Boy  criminals,  genesis  of,  in  the  tene- 
ments, 154. 
Boys'  Clubs,  151-176. 

Andover  House,  at,  186-188. 

Avenue  C  Working  Boys'  Club,  the, 
159-164,  167. 

Bethany  Church  Club,  167. 

Calvary  Parish  Club,  164,  165. 

character  of  tlie  boys  dealt  with,  176. 

Chicago,  in,  211. 

Christ  Chapel  Club,  167. 

Covenant  Chapel  Club,  167. 

difficulties  at  the  start,  175. 

entertainments,  168-171. 

Free  Reading-room  for   Boys,   the, 
165. 

Grace  iVIissiou  Club,  166. 

libraries,  167. 


394 


INDEX 


Boys'  Clubs,  London,  in,  266,  267. 

Manor  Chapel  Club,  165. 

moral  effects,  171-175. 

need  of  them,  the,  151-154. 

St.  George's  Church  Club,  165,  166. 

St.  Mark's  Place  Club,  the,  154-159. 

University    Settlement    Club,     the, 
166. 

Wayside  Club,  the,  106,  167. 

West-side  Working  Boys'  Club,  the, 
166. 

when  they  are  open,  167. 
Brace,  Charles  Loring,  Secretary  of  the 
Children's  Aid  Society,  351,  363, 
364. 
Brooke,  Rev.  Stopford,  35. 
Brueyre,  M.  Loys,  276-278. 
Buchanan,  Mr.  P.  R,  21,38. 
Building  societies,  213. 
Burne-Jones,  Sir  Edward,  28. 
Burns,  John,  32,  35. 
Butler,  Edward  B.,  217. 
Byrnes,  ex-Superintendent,  349. 

Charity,  causes  of  its  growth,  351. 
genesis  of,  270. 
modern,  more  effective,  350. 
spirit   and  accomplishments  of  the 

old,  177-179. 
Charity  Organization  Society  of  London, 

12,  13. 
of  the  City  of  New  York,  66,  179, 

180,  348,  349. 
Charities  Review,  the,  366. 
Chicago,  among  the  poor  of,  195-239. 
Anarchists,  the,  233. 
Arabians,  the,  205. 
Bad  Lands,  the,  203. 
benevolent  institutions,  220,  221. 
Central  Church  Mission,  211. 
Chinese,  the,  198,  203,  204. 
Clark  Street  Mission,  204,  205. 
drink-bill  of  the  city,  235,  236. 
foreign  elements  constitute  the  very 

poor,  198. 
homes  owned  by  the  working  classes, 

212,  213 


Chicago,  Hull  House,  215-220. 
Italians,  the,  198-203,  214. 
Jews,  the,  221-223. 
Libert}"   Bell    and   Friendship,  the, 

223,  224. 

life  there  much  a  matter  of  choice, 

195,  196. 
"  Little  Hell,"  211. 
Newsboys'  and  Bootblacks'   Home, 

226." 
Pacific    Garden    Mission,   the,   205, 

206. 
poor,  no  district  of  the  abject,  196, 

207. 
residential  district,  the,  212. 
room  for  expansion,  197. 
St.  James's  Church  Mission,  211. 
saloons,  207,  208,  237. 
Scandinavians,  the,  208,  211. 
Self-supporting  Women,  Home  for, 

224,  225. 

streets,  foulness  of,  in  spring,  223. 
sweat-shops,  227-233. 
Temperance  Temple,  205. 
tenement-house     evil,     not    j^et     a 

menace,  196,  197. 
Unity  Church  Industrial  School  and 

Boys'  Club,  211,  212. 
wages,  234,  235. 
Waifs'  Mission  and  Training  School, 

the,  226. 
work  wailing  for  the  unemployed, 
237,  238. 
Child  reform,  laws  in  relation  to,  276, 

277,  297,  298. 
Children  of  the  poor,  the,  86-130. 

wrongly  committed  to  institutions, 

359. 

Children's  Aid   Society  of  the  City  of 

New  York,  the,  66,  87,  110,  129, 

130,  350.  363,  364. 

Children's  Aid  Society  of  Pennsylvania, 

358. 
Chinese,  the,  89,  198,  203,  204. 
Church  of  England,  its  martyrs  to   the 

work  of  raising  man,  274. 
Church  Temperance  Society,  the,  365. 


INDEX 


395 


Christiauity,  the  awakener  of  modern 
cbaritv  work,  351. 

Cities  attract  the  idle  by  their  charities, 
238. 

City  Mission,  the,  of  New  York,  56,  71, 
73,  84,  87. 

City  ]\Iission  and  Tract  Society,  the,  353. 

Clark,  Colonel  George  R.,  206. 

College  settlements.  See  University  Settle- 
men  ts. 

Colly er,  Rev.  Robert,  311. 

Cook,  Captain,  342. 

Co-operation,  the  need  of,  85. 

County  poor-houses  in  New  York  State, 
355. 

Craig,  Oscar,  359. 

Crane,  Walter,  28,  35. 

Culver,  Miss  Helen,  230. 

Currie,  Sir  Edmund,  33. 

Dagnan,  Madame,  380. 
D'Alembert,  Jean  le  Rond,  390,  291. 
D'Alembert    Scliool,   the.      See    Street 

Arabs,  a  School  for. 
Damon -Kreiger,  286,  387. 
"  Darkest  England,  In,"  38. 
Dawson,  M.,  260. 
Dehesden,  M.,280. 
Denison,  Edward,  15. 
Dependent    children,   care  of,    in   New 

York  State,  356-359. 
Deserving  poor,  the,  suffer  most,  68. 
Dirt  and  crime,  154. 
Divi-sion  of  labor,  the,  386. 
Dockers'  strike,  the.     See  London. 

Emden,  Madame  S.,  380. 
Ericsson,  John,  113. 
Evening  Post,  The,  133. 

Fabian  Society,  the,  35-37. 
Factory  law  in  New  York  State,  368. 
Florenzano,  Signor,  332,  333. 
Four  classes  of  society,  the,  340,  341. 
France,  age  of  legal  majority  in,  294. 
her  care  of  the  morally  abandoned, 
276-278. 


Fresh-air-Fund,  story  of  the,  181-150. 
beginning,  its,  131,  149. 
day  excursions,  149. 
effect  of    the  children   upon    their 

hosts,  136,  137. 
Evening  Post,  The,  first  paper  of  the 

Fund,  132. 
growth  of  the  work,  133,  148,  149, 

150. 
Life's  summer  village,  148. 
money  question,  the,  132,  133,  134. 
moral  effects,  137-143,  145. 
physical  results,  139,  142-147. 
selecting  the  children,  135,  136. 
temporarj'  homes,  finding,  134,  135. 
Trihxine,  The,  and  the  raising  of  the 

money,  132. 
Fresh-air  work  in  London,  207,  268. 

Graham,  Robert,  349. 
Green,  John  Richard,  15. 
Greenhut,  Joseph,  234,  235. 

Habitual  offenders,  361,  363,  369. 

Heckford,  Dr.,  260. 

Heredity,  the  question  of,  362-364. 

Hill,  Miss  Octavia,  28,  189. 

Hirsch,  Baron  de,  103. 

Hogg,  Quinton,  24. 

"  How  the  Other  Half  Lives,"  by  Jacob 

A.  Riis.  305. 
Hughes,  Rev.  Hugh  Price,  8. 
Hull,  Charles  J.,  220. 
Hull  House,  215-230. 

Idle  rich,  the,  340. 

Idleness  and  the  tough,  115. 

Ignorance  and  poverty,  98,  99,  106.  109, 

110. 
Illinois  School  of  Agriculture  and  Train- 

ing  School  for  Boys,  the,  236. 
Immigration,    dangers    of    unrestricted, 

342. 
and  pauperism  in   the  State  of  New 

York,  342-346. 
and  pauiicrism  in  the  United  States, 

341,  342. 


JOG 


INDEX 


Immigration,  and  the  problem  of  pover- 
ty in  New  York  City,  88. 
Impostors  among  the  poor,  68,  69. 
Independent,     The,    symposium     in,    on 

juvenile  delinquents,  363. 
Insane   poor,   the,  in  the  State  of  New 

York,  354,  355. 
Italians,  the,  91-95,  98,  198-203,  314. 
Italy,  extreme  poverty  of  the  peasantry, 

301. 

Je-wisii  charities,  231,  333,  353,  353. 
Jews,  the,    56-58,    68,  69,    99-104,  231, 

322. 
"Jukes,  the,"  361. 
Juvenile  delinquents,  363. 

Kindergartens,  114,  204. 
King  Humbert,  312-315. 
King's  Daughters,  the,  98,  148. 
Kirkland,  Major  Joseph,  239. 
Kohn,  M.  Edouard,  280. 

"L.\BOR  and  Life    of  the   People,"   by 

Charles  Booth,  38-40,  181. 
Lafont,  M.  Charles,  277,  378. 
Landsberg,  Rev.  Max,  Ph.D.,  353. 
Life,  New  York,  its  fresh-air  work,  148. 
Loan  associations,  83,  83. 
London,  artists'  movement,  the,  38. 

"Bitter    Cry    of    Outcast    London, 

the,"  3,  16. 
Boys'  Clubs,  366,  267. 
Charity  Organization,  12,  13. 
Children's  Hospital,  the,  360. 
church,  the  work  of  the,  5. 
churches  of  the  riverside,    influence 
and  work,  their,  347,  348,  263, 
274. 
County  Council  work,  the,  37,  40. 
"Darkest    England,    In,"   influence 

of  the  book,  28. 
dockers,  the,  31-35. 
docks,  new,  influence  of,  252,  354. 
Fabian  Society,  the,  36,  37. 
fresh-air  work,  367,  268. 
Girls'  Club  of  Ratclifl,  364,  365. 


London,    Irish    Catholics,    the,    in    St. 
James's  Parish,  361,  268,  370. 

"  Labor  and  Life  of  the  People,"  by 
Charles  Booth,  38-40,  181. 

literary  proletariat,  the,  29,  30. 

model  tenements,  38. 

People's  Palace,  the,  23,  24. 

people  of  the  riverside,  345,  249- 
252,  261-263. 

polytechnics,  the,  24,  27. 

Port,  the,  241,246. 

promise  of  the  future,  40,  41. 

riverside  parishes,  the  old,  340-354. 

Rotlierhithe,  the  past  and  the  present. 
353,  253. 

St.  James's  Parish,  Rat  cliff,  257-274. 

Salvation  Army,  the,  8,  12,  270-273. 

shipwrights'  strike,  the,  and  its  re- 
sults, 254-257. 

social  awakening,  the,  1-41. 

Socialists,  the,  30,  35. 

Society  for  Organizing  Charitable 
Relief,  the,  and  Repressing  Men- 
dicity, 179. 

tenement-houses,  261. 

Toynbee  Hall,  3,  19,  20. 

trades-unions,  30,  38. 

university  settlements,  the,  14-23,  27. 

variety  of  social  work,  the,  37. 

wages,  the  question  of,  37,  38. 
Lowell,  Mrs.  Charles  Russell,  357. 

McCuLLOCH,  Rev.  Oscar,  362. 
Mann,  Tom,  32.  35. 
Marriage  among  the  poor,  73-74. 
Marshall,  Professor,  18. 
May,  M.,  380. 

Montevrain.     See  Street  Arabs. 
Moring,  M.  Michel,  377. 
Morris,  "William,  38,  35. 
Munthe,  Axel,  305,  310. 

Naples,  the  poor  in,  300-338. 
burial-places,  308-310,  322. 
camorra,  the,  326,  327. 
charitable  institutions,  327-334, 
cholera,  the,  310-314,  318. 


INDEX 


397 


Naples,  emigrants,  333-338. 

failure  of   efforts   to    supply   better 

homes,  306,  307,  317,  318,   324, 

325. 
how    they   live,   300,    301,  305-308, 

322. 
improvements  in   the  city  of,  323, 

324. 
population,  congested,  337. 
sanitary  conditions,  314-316. 
Santa  Lucia,  324. 
schools,  the  need  of,  327. 
water-supply,  314,  322. 
Newspapers,  influence  of,  75. 
New  York  City,  Association  for  Improv- 
ing the  Condition  of  the  Poor, 

350. 
Blackwell's  Island,  68 
Bohemians,  the,  105,  106. 
Bower}^  lodging-houses,  87. 
boy's  clubs,  118-120,  151-176. 
Carmen,  little  story  of,  98,  99. 
census  of  a  typical  East-side  block, 

56,  57. 
Charity   Organization   Society,    the, 

66,  179,  180,  348,  349. 
child  workers,  104,  105. 
Children's  Aid  Societj',  the,  66,  87, 

110,  129,  130,  350,  363,  364. 
children  of  the  poor,  the,  86-130. 
church,  influence  of  the,  74,  75. 
City  Mission,  the,  56,  66,  67,  71,  72, 

84. 
college  settlement,  the,  59,  60. 
co-operation,  the  benefits  of,  85. 
Cooper  Union,  78. 
deserving  poor  suffer  most,  the,  68. 
De  Witt  Memorial  Church,  57. 
drunkenness    wrecks   many   homes, 

124,  125. 
election-night  celebration,  115,  116. 
evictions,  50,  53,  54. 
extravagance  of  the  poor,  73,  74. 
Five  Points  House  of  Industry,  the, 

125. 
flats  or  tenements,  48. 
foreign  born,  the,  110. 


New  York  City,  Fresh-air  Fund,  59,  60, 

89,  90,  131-150. 
games  of  the  tenements,  114,  115. 
gangs,  115,  116,  120,  129. 
girls  of  the  tenements,  121-123. 
homes  in  the  tenements,   the   three 

classes  of,  49,  50. 
homes  broken  up  by  i^overtj',  65,  66. 
homeless  children,  86,  87,  125-130. 
immigration  jn-oblem,  the,  88,  89. 
impostors,  68,  69. 
industrial  schools,  the,  110-113. 
Italians,  the,  90-99. 
Jews,  the,  57-59,  69,  99-104. 
Katie,  the  little  housekeeper,  121. 
kindergartens,  114. 
King's  Daughters,  the,  98,  148. 
loan  associations,  82,  83. 
lodging-houses  for  boys,  127,    129, 

130. 
marriage  among  the  poor,  72-74. 
model  tenements,  more  needed,  77, 

78. 
morality  in  the  tenements,  72,  73, 114. 
nationalities  in  the  tenements,  56,  57. 
nurses,  trained,   the  great   need   of, 

83,  84. 
occupations  in  an  East-side  block,  56. 
organized  labor,  tyranny  of,  and  its 

results,  106-110. 
overcrowding,  influence  of,  124. 
parks,  the  need  of,  77,  115. 
poor  helping  the  poor,   the,    71,  72, 

121. 
population,  density  of,  54-5(1,  76. 
poverty  and  crime,  09-71. 
Poverty  Gap,  109. 
Public  Schools,  influence  of,  59. 
race  lines,  the  li.xing  of,  88. 
rapid  transit,  what  it  would  do  for 

the  poor,  70,  77. 
religious  denominations  in  an  East- 
side  block.  56,  57. 
rents,  49,  50. 
rich  and  poor,  66. 
saloons,  the,  78.  79. 
savings  banks,  62. 


398 


INDEX 


New  York  Cily,  slum  children,  89-91. 

Society  for  the  PreveiUiou  of  Cruelty 
to  Cbildreu,  the,  98,  125,  139, 
359,  365. 

swimming-baths,  81,  82. 

tenement,  a  typical,  43-48. 

Truant  Home,  need  of,  106. 

wages  of  the  unskilled,  63-65. 

Young  Men's  Institute,  the,  78.    See, 
also,  Tenement-House  Evil  and  its 
Cure. 
Nurses,   trained,    need   of,   in  the  tene- 
ments, 83,  84. 

Organized    charity,   character    of    the 
work  done  by,  351. 

influence  of,  179,  180. 

value  of,  348. 
Organized  labor,  tyranny  of,  106,  107. 

Paine,  Robert  Treat,  191. 

Paris,  care  of  the  children  of  the  street 

by,  275,  276. 
Pauper  family,  a  typical  case,  109,  110. 
Pauperism,  agencies  for  the  prevention 

of,  339-392. 
Alien    Pauper   Law,   the,    in    New 

York  State,  345,  346, 
Catholic  Protectoiy,  the,  359. 
Charity  Organization  Society  of  the 

City    of    New  York,  348,  349, 

366. 
Children's  Aid  Society,  the,  of  New 

York,  350,  363,  364. 
Children's  Aid  Society  of  Pennsyl- 
vania, 358. 
■church  work,  351,  352. 
City  Mission  Society,  P.  E. ,  of  New 

York,  352. 
City  Mission  and  Tract  Society,  the, 

352. 
condition  defined,  the,  339. 
cost  of  charitable  institutions  in  New 

York  State,  366,  367. 
dependent  children,  care  of,  356-359. 
Factory  Law,  the,  368. 
heredity,  the  question  of,  362,  363. 


Pauperism,  immigration  and,  in  the 
United  States,  341,  342. 

in  New  York  State,  342-346. 

insane  poor,  the  care  of,  354,  355. 

Jewish  charities,  in  the  United 
States,  352,  353. 

New  York  Association  for  Improv- 
ing the  Condition  of  the  Poor, 
350. 

organized  charitj',  character  of  the 
work  done  by,  351  ;  value  of, 
348. 

out-relief,  347,  348,  350. 

poor  and  almshouses,  353,  354. 

Prison  Association,  the,  of  New 
York,  361. 

punishment  of  transgressors,  the, 
301 ,  362. 

relation  between  producers  and 
paupers,  366. 

remedial  better  than  retributive  dis- 
cipline, 360,  361,  369. 

Rochester  Female  Charitable  Society 
for  the  Relief  of  the  Sick  Poor, 
350,  351. 

saloons,  influence  of  the,  365. 

sexes,  separation  of  the,  355. 

Society  for  the  Prevention  of  Crime, 
the,  361. 

Society  for  the  Prevention  of  Cruelty 
to  Children,  the,  359,  364. 

Society  for  the  Kulief  of  Poor  Wid- 
ows with  Small  Children,  350. 

Society  of  St.  Vincent  de  Paul,  the, 
350. 

Soldiers'  Home,  the,  367. 

State  Board  of  Charities,  the  New 
York,  340,  356,  358,  365. 

State  Charities  Aid  Society,  the,  of 
New  York,  365. 

State  Charities  Reeoi%  The,  357,  366. 

State  intervention,  the  question  of, 
368,  369. 

State  paupers  in  New  York,  346, 
347. 

State  Prisons  in  New  York,  361,  362 

tenement-house  question,  the,  368. 


INDEX 


399 


Pauperism,    university    settlements,    in- 
fluence of,  351. 
Wilhird  Asylum  Act,  the,  354. 
Paupers,  made    by   injudicious   charity, 

66. 
Pawnshops,  83. 
People's  Palace,  the,  3,  23,  24. 
Philanthropy,  the  new,  177,  192. 
Poor,  the  children  of  the,  86-130. 
Poor   helping    the   poor,  the,  53,  71,  72, 

121,  122. 
Poor,    suggestions   for  improving    their 

condition,  76-85. 
Poor-houses,  353,  354. 
Population,  densit}^   of,    in    New   York, 
76. 
density  of,  in  Naples,  357. 
shifting  of,  54-56. 
Porter,  Professor  Dwight,  191. 
Poverty  and  crime,  69-71. 

and  drink,  124,  125,  230,  236-238. 
and  ignorance,  98,  99. 

QuENTiN,  M.  Charles,  277. 

Redhill,  298. 

Reformatories,  275-299,  359,  360,  361. 

Remedial  superior  to  retributive  disci- 
pline, 360,  361. 

Rent,  the  great  burden  of  the  poor,  49, 
50T 

Rich  and  poor,  the,  66,  85. 

Riis,  Jacob  A.,  351. 

Rochester  Female  Charitable  Society  for 
the  Relief  of  the  Sick  Poor,  350, 
351. 

Rochester  School  of  Reform,  298. 

Roman  Catholic  Church,  charities  of, 
352. 

Roussel,  M.  Theophile,  278. 

Rowe,  Miss  O.  M.E.,  191. 

Ruskin,  John,  15,  27. 

Saloons,    78,    81,   207,    208.    237,    349, 

•       365. 
Salvation  Army,  the,  8,  12,  270-273. 
Sarter,  the  Baron  de,  280. 


Scandinavians,  the,  208. 
Schuyler,  Miss  Louisa,  365. 
Schwabe,  Julia  Sails,  334. 
Scudder,  Miss  Vida,  191. 
Small  towns,  the  poor  in,  67,  68. 
Society  for  Improving  the  Condition  of 
the  Poor,  66,  82. 

for  the  Prevention  of  Crime,  361. 

for  the  Prevention  of  Cruelty  to 
Children,  the,  98,  125,  129,  359, 
364. 

for  the  Relief  of  Poor  Widows  with 
Small  Children,  350. 

of  St.  Vincent  de  Paul,  350. 
Spencer,  Herbert,  351,  360. 
Starr,  Miss  Ellen  Gates,  220. 
State  Board  of  Charities  of  New  York, 
346,  356,  358,  365. 

Charities  Aid  Society,  the,  of  New 
York,  365. 

Charities  Recoi'd.  357,  366. 

prisons  in  New  York,  361,  362. 
Street    Arab,    the,   a  menace    to  public 
peace,  275. 

Arabs,  a  school  for,  275-299. 

age  of  enti'ance,  293. 

benefits  of  such  institutions,  294, 
295. 

buildings.  281. 

cabinet-making,  284-288. 

cost  of  maintenance,  296,  297. 

day's  routine,  a,  289. 

development  of  the  idea,  277,  278. 

diet,  295,  296. 

dress,  292,  293. 

earnings  of  the  boys,  287,  293,  294. 

foundation,  280. 

gymnastics,  290. 

incompetent  and  vicious,  the,  not  re- 
tained, 298. 

location,  278,  279,  280,  281. 

mental  training,  289. 

military  drill,  291,  292. 

motive  of  the  school,  276. 

name,  the,  279. 

printing  department,  282-284. 

similar  institutions,  279,  297,  298. 


400 


INDEX 


Strikes,  28,  31,  32,  254,  255. 
Sun,  The,  New  York,  349. 
Sweat-shops,  227-230. 

Tenement-house  evil,  the  New  York, 

and  its  cure,  370-392. 
chief  causes  of  the  evil,  370  372. 
commercial  planning,  the  art  of,  378, 

383. 
extravagance    of    present    methods, 

377,  378,  379,  381,  384-390. 
investment,  the,  in  present  structures, 

383. 
lighting,  ways  of,  390,  391. 
necessary  conditions  of  life  at  present, 

376. 
need  of  radical  reform,  375,  381. 
objections  to  present  plans,  374. 
obstacles,  the,  not  insuperable,  380. 
principles  of   economical  planning, 

380,  384. 
question,  the,  in  other  cities,  380. 
satisfactory   building  imder  present 

conditions  impossible,  375. 
solving  the  problem,  a  way  of,  391, 

392. 
typical  houses,  370,  371,  373. 

(See  also  Chicago,  London,  Naples.) 
Tenement-houses,  life  in  New  York,  42- 

85. 


Thulie,  Dr.,  277,  278. 
Tough,  genesis  of  the,  117. 
Toynbee,  Arnold,  15. 
Toynbee  Hall,  3,  8,  19,  20. 
Trades-unions,  29,  35. 
'"'Tribe  of  Ishmael,"  362. 
Tribune,  The,  New  York,  132. 

University  settlements,  in  Boston,  177- 
194. 
in  London,  19,  20,  23. 
iu  New  York,  59,  60. 
influence  of,  351. 

ViLLARi  Pasquale,  301. 

Villepreux,  School  of  Horticulture,  278, 

279. 
Vinton,  Dr.  C.  C,  135. 

Wadlin,  Hon.  Horace  G.,  190. 

Wages,  62,  63,  227,  234  235. 

White,  Dr.,  report  of,  142-145. 

Willard  Asylum  Act,  the.  354. 

Wilson,  Anna  T.,  358. 

Woman's  Christian  Temperance  Union, 

205. 
Woods,  Robert  A.,  184. 
Wright,  Carroll  D.,  190 

Yseure,  school  for  girls,  279. 


V 


I 


UNIVERSITY  OF  ILLINOIS-URBANA 

■**   331.8P792  C001 

THE  POOR  IN  GREAT  CITIES;  THEIR  PROBLEMS 


3  0112  025290021 


